


So Easy to Love

by deliriumbubbles



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M, Not Blaine or Klaine Friendly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-19
Updated: 2014-03-22
Packaged: 2018-01-16 07:07:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 33,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1336522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deliriumbubbles/pseuds/deliriumbubbles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Adam’s Apples are performing on a cruise liner when an explosion in the engines causes it to go down. When Kurt is injured saving a little girl from drowning, and they get separated from the life boats, Adam and Kurt try to survive until help can come.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. If Kate Winslet can do it...

**Author's Note:**

> Post S4 "Boys and Girls on Film" AU.

Kurt should have know when someone on the crew had referred to the liner as the “Ship of Dreams” they were  _doomed_. 

He’d finagled the Apples’ contract himself. When they’d unanimously voted him leader of their group for the next year, he’d felt responsible for giving them some pride in themselves. Oh, they had pride in their work, of course. They put a lot of effort into making each number unique and pushing their limits, and they’d already begun work on helping Joey with his senior project for next year, something that would be hard for him since the superficials wouldn’t sign up to perform in a production by one of them. But Kurt could see that the superficials still got to them sometimes, and self-esteem was keenly important. Especially at a high pressure school like NYADA.

The Apples had fought for years to be allowed to perform in competitions, and never gotten the official clearance needed. Possibly because the school had a reputation to uphold, and losing  _wasn’t_  an option. That could have resulted in a large amount of support to  _make sure_  they didn’t lose, but it really resulted in the administration trying to pretend they weren’t even a registered organization at the academy.

So Kurt had looked to other options. If they couldn’t compete, they could perform. They could become an outlet for each others’ creative projects. They could  _amass credits_  on their C.V.s.

And this summer, they could perform five times a week on a cruise. There had been literal jumping up and down and some rolling around on the floor when Kurt had told them the news. Adam had been so speechless that Kurt could only smirk and bounce on his heels as he looked straight into Adam’s astonished blue eyes.

There was just…  _something_  about seeing Adam happy like that. Kurt really just… He wished  _he_  could make him that happy.

And anyway the week prior to this announcement had been such a  _blow_  for Adam. And that was not something Kurt ever wanted to see. Adam weathered disappointment well; he was as skilled as Kurt at putting on that happy face, but that didn’t mean he didn’t hear the cruel jibes aimed at him.

“Phenomenal, Mr. Hummel.” Carmen had said after Kurt had performed an original arrangement of  _Phantom_ ’s “Think of Me” in the Round Room in front of her and what seemed like the whole of student population. “Simply phenomenal. I’m not certain anyone else could have performed that piece.”

“Hm. Julie Andrews, probably,” Kurt replied dryly. Though he knew she meant anyone else at the school.

The soft titters of laughter seemed cacophonous in the acoustics of room. It made Kurt’s heart race even now, to stand in front of a crowd laughing at him, even if he’d been the one to make the joke.

“Hm.” Carmen wrote a few notes on her pad, not dismissing him quite yet.

Apparently word had gotten out that Kurt would be performing today, and everyone wanted to see Carmen’s reaction to the most recent Midnight Madness winner. Kurt’s heart had fluttered in his chest sporadically like a wounded bird upon seeing the crowd, but he had ignored the keen eyes all around the room waiting for him to fail and just lost himself in the song. Parts of it were reminiscent of Brightman’s performance, but with the way he’d arranged it to show off both ends of his range, it might actually be true that no one else at the school could do the piece. If there were, he would have liked to meet and work with that person.

“I had wondered if you might neglect the gift you’ve been offered in studying here,” Carmen had said vaguely, “considering your  _interesting_  choices in company this semester.”

Kurt hadn’t let himself look at the little cluster of Apples sitting near the front, and especially not Adam. He could feel the wounded expression that would be on Adam’s face. The Dean of Vocal Performance and Song Interpretationwas talking smack about them. The  _Dean_.

“I don’t see why  _any_  artist would pass up an opportunity to hone his or her craft,” Kurt had replied flippantly. “I can sing weepy ballads, and silly pop songs, and do them very well, thank you, but I’m not here to rehearse the same songs I’ve always done or do a myna bird’s version of anyone else’s work.”

As Carmen had looked up, slowly, Kurt had caught Rachel’s horrified expression out of the corner of his eye. Apparently Carmen had a habit of expelling or putting students on probation in the Round Room. But Carmen was smiling. In that non-smiling smile she did, where the corners of her mouth barely moved. She was amused.

“Good. You may sit down, Mr. Hummel. Good luck to the next student who follows you…” She scanned down her list as Kurt hurried over to take his seat by Adam, who was breathing in and out with a deliberateness that told Kurt he needed to do something to cheer his friend. “Mr. Delacroix,” she said finally.

“You  _are_  a _maz_ ing,” Adam had breathed into Kurt’s ear, and Kurt knew that he didn’t just mean the performance.

So securing this job for them, a job that paid, a job that had a few of their detractors spinning with jealousy and others sneering at the popular venue…

It had resulted in Adam coming up to Kurt, grabbing him around the waist and twirling him around like a Disney princess. He stopped just short of a wind-swept kiss, but the both of them had gotten caught in one another’s gaze, feeling the joy and the tension rising within them. 

Those first few days on the boat had been made of newness and flushed cheeks. Kurt had never been on a boat before. He’d only  _seen_  the ocean a few times, hailing as he did from the landlocked Midwestern paradise of Lima. So he’d been afraid that he might spend the whole trip miserable and puking. He’d found that he really hated flying. The boat was different though. Their days were spent laughing together in the bright sun, and their nights were filled with the rush of performance.

Only  **now** … the ship was sinking. Seven performances in, and there had been some kind of explosion in the engine room. It had shaken the entire ballroom and caused panic and screaming as people ducked under tables and ran for the doors. Then the deck had begun to tilt, and the panic increased tenfold.

Kurt scrambled to grab one of the tables that was bolted to the floor, but lost his grip as he saw a child sliding past. Instinctively, his arms swept around her and he went sliding towards the end of the deck as she squalled in terror. 

“Kurt!” Adam bellowed. He was still at the front of the room with the others. Kurt could hear him calling, and Joey and Dale screamed for him to stay put. Kurt caught a glimpse of the Apples’ arms holding him still, keeping him from darting forward… but Kurt was a little busy to think about what anyone else was doing. He grabbed for another table and caught them before sliding any further. 

“Can you hold on?” he asked the girl. “Grab the table, honey, okay? We need to get you outta here!”

She just let out a fresh wail. Too young. She was too young to understand what was happening. He held her tightly and pulled the both of the to the opposite side of the table so they weren’t sliding so much, then looked around. Crew members were herding people out of the ballroom and presumably to life boats. Kurt struggled to hold onto the girl and wave at the same time.

“Hey! Hey, I have a  _little_   _kid_  here! Someone come get her!”

“Oh my  _God!”_ a woman cried. “Amy! Oh, God, please! Someone help her!”

Two crewmen prevented her from tumbling down the deck to get to her daughter, and Kurt held her fast.

He saw a large man holding onto a rope coming down slowly. The deck had already tilted dramatically, and just walking down was not a possibility. As he moved, Kurt realized that this rescue was going too slowly. He could hear water coming up in the rooms behind them, and glass bursting. Determinedly, he ordered the girl to hold onto him (though she was already clinging for all she was worth), and pressed his palms to the too-slick floor. He slid backwards a few times, but eventually met the crewman halfway.

Just as the man reached for little Amy, the deck shifted again. He caught the girl. Kurt went tumbling back across the floor like a discarded rag doll, felt his head crack against a table, and then slammed against the wall. His fall was only buffered by the splash of water around him, and he went still as the room went dark. 

The next sounds he could hear were screams and another explosion. He coughed and choked and moved his hands to his side. There was something pinching him and his hands pushed through the water, trying to brush the irritate away, but it was stuck.

Kurt blinked and looked around him. Water entered his mouth again, and he choked once more before he realized that the water was overwhelming him. He moved his legs and arms, and then the pinch at his side screamed. He looked down at the cloudy dark water.

Blood. There was blood. Coming out of him. A sheet of metal had pierced his side. Blood was dripping down his face from his head, and he didn’t know if he had the strength to tread water until the crewmen came back for him. He looked down at the metal, trying to figure out what it had come from, but it didn’t matter. If he pulled it out, it would bleed more. If he didn’t, he might do more damage to his insides by having to thrash around with a sharp object lodged in his insides.

He jerked it out, let out a cry, and forced himself to swim towards a wall. There he closed his eyes for a moment and coughed hard to evict the water that had snuck into his lungs.

“If Kate Winslet can do it, I can do it,” Kurt said to himself.

His fingers grasped desperately at the wall, trying to pull himself up, but his arms were now like noodles, and his head wouldn’t stop spinning. Nausea washed over him and he pressed his face against the paneling.

He was going to die here. He’d finally made it to New York, had a good job, and prospects at a well-renowned arts school where he was critiqued and encouraged by the faculty, and amazingly supportive friends, and his father’s cancer had gone into remission… and he was going to die. He closed his eyes, sort of hoping that his father wasn’t the one who had to ID his body. Carole could do it.

Then it was then that he noticed the window getting closer. With the water rising, as cold as it was, it was lifting him up and up… as long as he kept afloat. The last thing he remembered was pushing that window open, crawling through, and looking out over the endless ocean.

Then his slick hands lost their grip, and he fell into the sea.

—-

The sound of waves and the warmth on his body made Kurt smile a little. This trip had been nice, getting to have his privacy for once, and being awakened not by the sounds of dolphin yodeling, but by the feel of another person in his bed. He reached behind him to remind himself. Was he in his room, or in the room of the Smith, the performer from another group who he’d spent a few nights with? It was fuzzy in his head…

But his hand didn’t reach warm skin. He could barely move it, actually. He lifted his head slightly, then began to panic.

His skull felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. And he was outside. In a small boat, bobbing along on the waves. His vision was blurry, and his head was splitting. When he started to rise, he found he couldn’t even begin to try.

“Kurt, no. Stay still!” Adam said suddenly.

Kurt laid his head back down and then saw Adam’s worried face hovering over him.

“Oh, God. Thank  _God_  you woke up.” His large hand caressed the side of Kurt’s face.

Kurt blinked at his shirtless friend. Something tingled inside him, but his brain wasn’t cooperating well enough to connect to the rest of him what was so exciting. “You’ll get a sunburn,” he murmured instead. He sounded a little drunk, and frowned at his own words.

Adam tilted his head to the side for a moment then moved his hand down Kurt’s chest. “You hit your head,” he said slowly, “and… and you were  _bleeding_. Stay  _still_ , okay? You must’ve lost a lot of blood before you got out of there. They stopped sending crew back, and they wouldn’t let us…”

His eyes were overbrimming with tears. Kurt took Adam’s hand, and pressed it to his dry lips. The gesture seemed to calm him somewhat.

“I made it… though,” Kurt murmured. “You have somethin’ to do with that?”

“You fell  _out of the window_! I-I went to go get you. I thought for sure you were going to drown.” He forced a wobbly smile. “B-but you didn’t.”

“You came to get me?”

“You  _saved_  that girl. You saved her life. They wouldn’t have been able to get her if she’d fallen all the way down that deck.” Adam leaned in and pressed his lips very gently to Kurt’s forehead. Then he looked at Kurt’s face, almost as though he was surprised. “You _idiot_.”

“Hey.” Kurt’s protests were merely a quarter-hearted. “You came to get me?” He realized half a second later that he’d already asked that.

“I jumped out of our life raft and swam to you. I honestly don’t know how I made it far enough in time, before you- you  _drowned_.”  A tear trickled down his cheek. “That was yesterday. I swam back around with you to the abandoned boats… I think they got most everyone in the rafts, but I don’t know… Then there was a storm. We’re a little lost, now.”

Kurt nodded and closed his eyes. Adam shook his shoulders, and Kurt opened his eyes again to see bald panic on Adam’s face.

“Don’t leave,” he begged.

“I won’t,” Kurt promised.

He continued to stare up at Adam for a long time. It took him a long stretch before he realized what had been different… Adam’s shirt was gone. And it was wrapped around the wound in his side, and around the crown of his head.

“I liked that shirt,” Kurt said, almost to himself.

Adam, whose slick, well-cut muscles moved fluidly as he paddled them forward, looked back and grinned lopsidedly. “You’re worth it.”

—-

When Kurt regained some of his senses, he found that after Adam had plucked him from the briny depths, he’d been out for the better part of the evening, and slept straight on through a storm ‘til morning. Bless Adam for keeping his wits about him. He periodically pressed water to Kurt’s lips, and Kurt dutifully drank a few sips.

Adam wouldn’t let Kurt sit up at first, so he tried to row the boat by himself, although that seemed to be taking an awfully long time, and neither knew where they were. Kurt tried to stay awake, and found his eyes drawn to the muscles working in Adam’s back.

That night, Kurt stared up at the stars and felt his heart speeding up in his chest. Sweat slicked over his forehead, and Adam curled up beside him and smoothed something cool over his side. 

“Ish hot out here,” he murmured.

Adam kissed his cheek and combed his fingers through his hair. “I know you feel hot. But don’t kick off the blanket, okay? It’s chilly out tonight.”

Kurt reached up and cupped the back of Adam’s neck, rubbing his fingers gently against Adam’s dirty hair. 

“We’re okay,” Kurt whispered.

Adam leaned in closer, and Kurt kissed his forehead. That was when he noticed how cool Adam’s skin felt. He closed his eyes and pressed their cheeks together. It wasn’t the air, Kurt realized. It was  _him_.

“I  _will be_  okay. Promise.”

“I’m going to hold you to that,” Adam replied, trying ineffectually to joke.

Too soon the water ran out, and they were licking their lips, thirst crowding their brains even more than hunger. Kurt wondered if the Coast Guard had sent anyone for the people in the life rafts. He wondered if his family knew what had happened yet.

It was another day before Adam let out a strangled noise and started paddling faster. Kurt pushed himself up a few inches. There was an  _island_. With vegetation. That meant _water_.

Kurt took the other oar and began paddling alongside Adam. 

“No! Sweetheart, you shouldn’t move!”

“Just…” Kurt bowed over for a moment, panting, then began again. “Just help me. We… If a storm comes again…”

Adam moved over to Kurt and touched his shoulder. “You… are a  _control_  freak.”

“Am… not…” Kurt leaned into him. 

“If it  _hurts_ , stop,” Adam urged.

“I will. Land. Find some water.”

Adam rubbed his back. Together they paddled the boat, moving slowly towards safety.

—-

Kurt had worn himself out paddling, so he lay limply in the boat as it neared the shore. Adam leapt out into the water and grabbed the lip of the boat, pulling with all of his strength until they were aground. The sun bore down on his bare, slick shoulders.

He went around to the side of the boat to look down on Kurt. His face was ashy, his hair limp, and he was completely dead to the world. Enough time had passed that Adam was less worried about the head wound and more worried about Kurt’s fever. He’d tried to keep the wounds clean, and he’d rubbed antiseptic over the gash in Kurt’s stomach. But he couldn’t know how bad the infection was.

Adam scooped Kurt up into his arms, not wanting to leave him there vulnerable while he explored the island. He had terrible visions of the tide coming in and sweeping Kurt away from him. And he’d had more than enough of losing Kurt. Hopefully, someone would find them here.

With Kurt securely in his grasp, Adam headed up the beach, looking for some sign of habitation… but there was none that he could see immediately. He’d have to go deeper in. He lay Kurt in the sand, far out of the reach of the tide, and sat by him.

“You need to wake up now, darling. I need to go find us shelter…”

Adam’s heart tugged as Kurt let out a soft groan in his sleep. 

“You need to wake up.” He pressed his hand to Kurt’s forehead. “It’s funny. How you were so concerned that you wouldn’t have time to give me what I needed. And how  _I_ thought… we’d have so much more  _time_ …”

His voice broke, and he bowed his head.

_“I can’t.” The frown in Kurt’s brow deepened as he seemed to realize something._

_“I… Oh.” Adam released Kurt’s hand and pulled back a little._

_“I mean I-I have a dance tutoring lesson in like,” Kurt looked at the clock on the wall and rattled off rapidly, ”_ **_now_ ** _.  And then I have acting class, and then I have to go to work. Not Vogue work, waiting tables work. And then I have to get home and take an Ambien because I have to be up ridiculously early for work. Vogue work, not waiting work. Because I’ve been so busy with everything, I have to get in before anyone else on days I_ **_can_ ** _be there-”_

_Kurt interrupted his rush of words to run his hands through his hair. “I can’t.”_

_“Oh. Well. We don’t have to do it right now,” Adam said. His smile returned, and warmth filled his chest at the sight of Kurt rambling and going on about his schedule._

_“I just… I want to. I really do, Adam. You’re the most wonderful, and attractive, guy who has_ **_ever_ ** _been interested in me, but I’m just so_ **_busy_ ** _.”_

_Adam’s frown returned. “Well, we’re all busy. It’s not a_ **_crime_ ** _to be busy.”_

_“I know, I…” Kurt shook his head. “I just- I wasn’t able to keep my last relationship going because I was too busy, and then I was only working two jobs. Not working two jobs_ **_and_ ** _going to school full time,_ **_and_ ** _being in extra curriculars.”_

_Adam stared for a moment. He couldn’t fathom what was happening._

_“If you don’t want to be more than friends-” Adam began._

_“I do. I do like you, I’m just… I just don’t think I have anything to_ **_give_ ** _you.”_

_Adam put his hands on his hips and tilted his head to the side. “You’ve given me plenty, Kurt. Even in these days of coffee dates and not-dating, even if we stayed just friends, you give me so much. I know you’re busy, but there’s no reason to feel guilty-”_

_“My last relationship fell apart. I can’t live through that again, and I can’t put you through it. With school and work and my dad sick— I haven’t told you about that yet, sorry— I’m not sure I can even focus on… And I thought I was over Blaine, I mean that’s why I thought I could be near him at the wedding, but obviously I’m_ **_not_ ** _…”_

_Kurt bowed his head over and covered his face partially with his hand. Adam watched him with wide, vulnerable eyes for a moment as his heart broke. Then he took Kurt’s other hand and tugged gently. Kurt came forward and let Adam put his arms around him._

_“Your break-up wasn’t your fault. But if you’re not ready, you’re not ready. I don’t mean to push. You’ve seen those sappy movies. Sometimes the timing is just bad.”_

_“I’m sorry. I don’t wanna be the jerk leading you on.”_

_“I think you’ve been very honest.” Adam rubbed his back slowly. He wondered if Kurt would talk to him sometime about his father. “But you’re wrong.”_

_Kurt lifted his head a little._

_“Your last relationship fell apart because_ **_he cheated_ ** _. End of. He cheated, Kurt. And I think if you’d fought for any other reason, if he’d done anything else to you, you’d be back together by now. But even after making this decision, it still_ **_hurts_ ** _because you built your future dreams with him_ **_in them_ ** _, and now everything seems…” Adam faltered for a moment._

_“Like there’s no more romance in the world. Like none of it is real.” Now a few tears trickled down Kurt’s reddened cheeks. “Like all the romance and happy endings are just made up to keep tricking smart women into getting married and propagating the species.”_

_Adam pressed his lips together, trying not to laugh._

_“Maybe_ **_that’s_ ** _a little dramatic,” Kurt muttered, shaking his head at himself. “I don’t think I could go look for a romantic movie with you even if my schedule wasn’t completely insane.”_

_“Yeah. I see that.” Adam moved his hand to wipe away Kurt’s tears, and Kurt looked up at him. He was still so wounded._

_If they’d met just a year later. Or if Adam had been his friend before the breakup and someone he’d trusted already._

_But he was a new person in Kurt’s life after Kurt’s ability to trust had been gutted._

_“Meeting ran long. We might just have to go over the basics-” Cassandra began as she came into the dance studio._

_Kurt turned around, and her brows raised._

_“Are_ **_you_ ** _the ex?” she asked, hand on her hip._

_Kurt blinked in surprise. Adam raised a brow. She’d never liked him in class much, and he suspected it was because he tended to smile when she was yelling at him._

_“No. I’m just his friend.” Adam gave Kurt a squeeze, then another back rub. “How about… I get you some water, and let you get on with your insanely, fabulously busy schedule… and I’ll see you at the Apples, and we can talk about when our insanely, fabulously busy schedules might enable us to meet again for coffees or a movie- a_ **_comedy_ ** _!”_

_Kurt sucked in his lower lip, then took a deep breath and nodded. Cassandra shot him an impatient look and pointed to the bar as a signal to Kurt to get working. Adam smiled at them both, then headed out of the room, hearing Cassandra’s voice as he went in search of cold water._

_“Don’t get too distracted, Twinkle Toes. I teach that to little Midwestern hopefuls every year, but they never listen. Now. Pliés first, then show me the turns.”_

Adam could feel the sun baking his uncovered shoulders. He looked around, and saw nothing. He wished he’d familiarized himself with the map before they’d set out. That way he might have some idea of how long it would be before someone came looking out this way. Kurt needed a doctor. Antibiotics.

His thumb had been unconsciously stroking Kurt’s forehead, and then his head turned slightly toward Adam.

“You,” he whispered as he memorized every line of Kurt’s face. He was pale as milk, aside from two red flushed spots on his cheeks. Even like this, he was a beautiful man.

“It’s a pity you don’t know how beautiful you are. How utterly, utterly beautiful. You’re the kind of bloke who would have inspired Shakespeare to scrawl him some pretty lines… and even then, he wouldn’t have known the depth of you. You gave your life for a child you didn’t even know… You did it without  _thinking_. It wasn’t even a question. And though not everyone gets that consideration, you give so much of yourself, to all your loved ones.” Adam blinked back tears. “No  _wonder_  you feel incapable of giving any  _more_. They’ve taken it all already. Some more than others, and then he treated it like garbage. And you feel empty… You’re fresh out.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, letting a few tears fall.

“But I love you so much, it doesn’t matter. Just being in my life, you brighten every single day. And I’ll take that, as long as we both live.”

A cold hand touched Adam’s face, and he looked down to see Kurt’s fever-bright eyes looking up at him. He couldn’t feel shame. This was hardly the moment for hiding. They might die of starvation, or dehydration, or sun exposure, if Kurt didn’t succumb to his wound.

Kurt’s lips moved without making a sound, and he shook his head and shivered. 

“What is it?” Adam asked. “What can I get you?”

“L-let’s… go see a movie,” Kurt managed.

Adam let out a soft, disbelieving laugh. “I dunno if there’s a theatre on this island.”

Kurt moved his hand down to Adam’s and squeezed weakly. Adam held it tightly in return. Kurt continued to look up at him with an unreadable expression. 

“I don’t want to leave you here helpless, but… I need to find us some kind of shelter.”

Kurt blinked slowly, then nodded. Adam bowed over and kissed his temple. Then, out of more of his own need than Kurt’s, he pulled Kurt to his chest and rubbed one hand over Kurt’s arm to warm him up.

“Sweet,” Kurt murmured.

“Hm?” Adam tucked his head over Kurt’s shoulder.

“Sweet. You are.”

“I’m perfectly salty.”

Kurt laughed softly. “What you said… I mean…”

“Oh.”

“You make me sound like some kinda… superhero or something. I’m not  _that_  good.”

“You  _are_. I know you are. I’ve seen it. Ask the mother of that girl you saved.”

Kurt pressed his forehead into Adam’s chest. “I’m sorry. That I’ve… I’ve put you through this… made you watch me… not be with you…”

“I gather since I don’t see any of these guys more than once they aren’t getting what I truly want, either.”

Kurt breathed softly. “No. They aren’t. Just… banging out… how I feel.”

It took a moment before Kurt sensed the pun in his words, and he let out a soft laugh.

Adam smiled sadly. “I knew the score. Don’t cry for me, Lima.”

Kurt lifted his head and raised a brow. Adam smiled down at him and petted his cheek. In truth, he was just happy that Kurt seemed to be gaining lucidity. His ability to form sentences had been spotty since he’d first woken up on the boat, and had degraded as the fever too hold of him.

—-

Adam found them an abandoned fishing shack a bit of a ways into the trees, and that was good. It meant someone might come back here, and it meant they had supplies to catch fish. Granted, Adam hadn’t the faintest of how to do that.

That night, Kurt’s fever worsened, and Adam fed him the water he’d collected, and held him tightly. Sweat soaked Kurt’s body, and he trembled in Adam’s arms. Adam clung to him, feeling Kurt’s heart pounding against his own chest.

When Adam woke, moonlight streamed into the shack, and the night air had gone cool. He shivered and closed his eyes stubbornly, moving to put his arms around Kurt once more. When his hand hit air, he opened his eyes and looked around. Kurt was gone.

Adam pushed the blanket back, launched himself onto his feet, and darted out of the shack, prepared to scour the entire island. Kurt was a sleepwalker. Adam just hadn’t thought Kurt had the strength to get up on his own, let alone wander off.

But he was only a few steps out of the shack when he saw Kurt leaning against the side, staring up at the moon.

“My God! Kurt, you scared the hell out of me!”

Kurt turned his head and smiled softly. Adam hurried over and put a hand to Kurt’s side, in case he stumbled.

“Hi.” Kurt took Adam’s hand and pressed it to his face. “I think my fever broke. What do you think?”

“How…?” Adam cupped the back of Kurt’s neck and trailed his fingers over his cheek with his other hand. “Oh, God. You  _are_  cooler. Bless. Oh…”

“I’m a survivor,” Kurt said. 

Adam laughed as he pulled Kurt closer and kissed his cheek.

“I’m not gon’ give up,” Kurt added in a serious tone. “I’m not gon’ stop. I’m gon’ work harder. I’m a survivor. Keep on survivin’.”

Adam laughed harder and curled his face into Kurt’s shoulder. “I was so afraid.”

“I know. I know, sweetie.

Kurt ran his fingers through Adam’s hair, and Adam breathed shakily. God, the thought of losing Kurt. He couldn’t do it. Even with Kurt not giving his all romantically, being  _near him_  transformed Adam’s life.

Kurt’s fingers trailed along Adam’s jawline, and Adam looked up at him. They were so bedraggled, unwashed, just busted all around. For two men who spent a lot of time on their appearance, Adam figured they must look hilarious.

He watched Kurt licking his lower lip, and then time slowed down. Kurt brushed his lips against Adam’s once, unhurriedly, then pressed their lips together again, his hand moving through the back of Adam’s hair, his nails scratching gently. Adam froze for a moment. Kurt’s lips were on his, pressing hard and pulling away after each kiss with a little suck. Nothing like the tentative, sweet, nearly platonic kisses they’d shared over coffee. These were dominant, and  _sensual_. Adam melted under the intensity of Kurt’s demanding lips.

His brain woke up finally, and he pulled back and looked into Kurt’s eyes.

“Sweetie, you’re- you’re probably still a little loopy, okay? You’re concussed. You’ve been sick, and hurt, and-”

Kurt kissed him again and pressed his palm to the side of his face. “I’m not delirious. And you say  _I_ have have self-esteem problems.”

“I just can’t take advantage of you.”

Kurt cooked his arms around Adam’s neck and rubbed their noses together. “I know. You never would. You’d never push me. You’d never manipulate me into doing what  _you_ want. I, uh, wanted to ask you if you wanted to go catch that movie together… when we get back to a place that has movies.”

“You did ask me,” Adam said softly. He moved his hand down Kurt’s back.

“Oh?” Kurt wrinkled his nose. “Did you say no already? Did I wait too long?”

  
“No. That was yesterday. You’re still losing time.” Adam touched the shirt bandage on Kurt’s temple. “I didn’t realize you’d meant it.”

“Movie. You. Me. Popcorn. Possibly some kind of chocolate.”

Kurt started to slump downward, and Adam caught him and held him up firmly.

“After we get you to a hospital,” Adam said. He lifted Kurt up into his arms.

“You’re such gentleman.” Kurt reached over and squeezed his biceps. “I have not give these enough credit.”

“Thank you. I admit to not feeling very sexy after not showering for practically a week.”

“At least you don’t smell like sea water and death.”

Adam kissed Kurt’s cheek. “I reckon we both do.”

“Just another way movies have lied to me.”

“I’ve honestly never seen a movie about two show choir directors getting shipwrecked from a cruiseliner and starting a gay romance,” Adam mused. 

“There should be. We clearly need to write a musical about this.”

“Fantastic.”

The skies above started to crackle, and moments later, as they were curled up under a blanket together in the shack, the sound of rain pounded above their heads.


	2. Though All the Romantic Songs Seem Ruined...

“I’m trying to think of a jaunty tune for the fishing portion of our musical.” Kurt raked his eyes up and down Adam’s body. With his shirt destroyed to create a tourniquet and a bandage for Kurt’s head, Adam had been shirtless since before they’d found the island. Sadly, Kurt had only been able to appreciate this fact for a few hours.

 

“Come around and you’ll hear a tale,” Adam sang suddenly in a comically deep voice, “A tale of songs and things! Our tale begins ashore at a New York school where all the the students sings!”

“Hm.” Kurt bit his lower lip. “That’s beautiful.”

Adam turned slightly, not letting go of his fishing pole. “I might need to get some notes on the lyrics.”

“No. Not at all. I think the lyrics are absolutely perfect.” Kurt curled his arm over his stomach. Miraculous recovery from his fever notwithstanding, their activities the night before had been limited to cuddling, since Kurt still had a hole in his side that probably needed stitches, and could still end up giving him gangrene if not properly taken care of. 

So he sat dutifully still, where Adam could see him, and tried to figure out how to put a fire together.

“Oy. So says the Yank who wrote the Royal Family’s musical version of  _That’s My Bush_ ,” Adam teased. “With a reality tv lampooning on top.”

“I can’t believe I showed that to you.”

“I can’t believe your previous show choir didn’t want to have a go at. It’s bloody hilarious.”

Kurt shrugged and dipped his head. “I think it would have them laughing for all the wrong reasons.”

“Fools!” Adam declared in his most ‘British Villain’ voice.

“Hm. Yes.” Kurt sighed and blew on the sticks. “This works in movies.”

“So does this.” Adam shrugged. He bent over and spent a minute pushing the rod into the sand.

Kurt kept his eyes on Adam’s firm, muscular backside, and didn’t turn his head or lower his brow his eyebrow even when Adam turned around.

“Are you taking a gander at my arse?”

“You can’t blame me. I’m sick,” Kurt teased.

“Blame wasn’t the first thing to cross my mind.” Adam strolled over and sat by Kurt and the failed fire. He took the sticks in his hands and started rubbing the skinny one between his hands, pressing the tip into the second piece of wood. “Too wet,” he determined after a few minutes of trying. “I thought as much, but no reason not to give it a go.”

Kurt pushed his hair back and looked over at the fishing rod sticking out of the sand. “What do we do?”

“I wasn’t exactly a boy scout. But we need to get food, somehow. Maybe it’ll dry if we leave it out?”

“And it doesn’t rain again.” Kurt started to push himself up, and Adam held up a hand.

“Honey, you tried your hand at the fire. Let me try with the fishes.”

Adam looked dubious, but he took Kurt’s hand, helped him to his feet, and stayed close as Kurt went to try his hand at fishing. The rod, he noticed as he took it in his hand, was simple, and very old. The lines were probably a disgrace. 

“What did you use for a lure?” Kurt reeled the line back.

“Some of the little feathery bits in the shack.”

Kurt nodded. He stretched his arms over his head and winced. “Okay, I’m gonna need you to cast the line for me. Throw it out really far? We’ll try with the flies, and if that doesn’t work, we’ll need some live bait.”

“As in… worms.” Adam’s smile was dubious.

“As in… yuck. But fish will go for that sooner. It’s actual food.”

Kurt mimicked the motion Adam needed to cast the line properly, and after a few duds, he managed to throw it out there. Kurt sat in the sand beside him. Adam touched the top of his head tenderly. 

“It’ll take some time,” Kurt said. “Just as well, I guess. No fire to fry up the fish.”

“For that, we’d need some dry wood.”

Kurt blinked sleepily. Unfair, that he was on this deserted island alone with a man who sexiness was so casual and raw, and Kurt’s body just wanted to sleep all the time. 

“Did we check the shack thoroughly?” he asked. “There might be some firestarters in there. Wet wood won’t burn well, but we can dry some of the other wood in the shack, and then near the fire. It’s worth a try. Better than freezing our  _pliés_  off.”

Adam chuckled and petted over Kurt’s hair. Then he caressed the side of Kurt’s neck, and Kurt rested his head against Adam’s leg.

“Aren’t you the little survivalist. Did you go fishing as a boy?”

“A couple of times, with my dad, and my uncle. It was a long time ago, though.”

“Honestly, Kurt, sometimes you talk like you’re forty years old.”

“Sometimes… I feel old.”

“What will you do with yourself when you finally make it to old age? Start clubbing, doing the irresponsible things your friends did in their twenties?”

“That sounds like a good idea to me.” Kurt reached up and threaded his fingers through Adam’s. He stared out at the sea, which seemed calm and still today. It went on  _forever_ in every direction. “A reward for all my grandma like behavior.”

After what had seemed like a long time, Adam breathed, “I think my heart will break if I ask… You weren’t really… You remember last night, don’t you?”

Kurt jerked his head up and looked up at Adam, who kept his eyes fixed on the sea. Kurt squeezed his hand firmly.

“I remember. Honey. I  _remember_.”

“It just seemed… very sudden to me.”

“It wasn’t so sudden for me,” Kurt replied. “I’ve been thinking this over since we met. I’m just, slow. Working through things.”

“I understood that you were under so much stress…” Adam’s fingers trailed down Kurt’s neck. “It wasn’t fair to push you…”

“I’m not sure it was fair to make you wait so long.”

“Yes. Half a semester. That’s just dreadful behavior.”

Kurt lifted his head into Adam’s scratching fingers.

“I’m  _sure_  you hate to hear-” Adam sang, his smooth voice filling the open ocean air. “-how I  _adore_  you, dear. But grant me just the same, I’m not  _entirely_  to blaaame…”

Kurt chuckled softly, holding his side. “What’s that from?”

Adam’s eyes bulged and his mouth went agape.

“ _Anything Goes!_ It’s a musical, with  _sailors!_ I am just scandalized you don’t know it!”

_  
_“I’ve _heard_  of it, and I know some of the top songs, but it’s not like Ohio offers you the chance to see every musical there is.”

“You’d be-” Adam began singing again, “ _so_  easy to love.  _So_  easy to idolize, all others above!”

He circled his arm around Kurt’s shoulders and swayed them back and forth. “ _So_  sweet to waken with!  _So_  nice to sit down to eggs and fakon with!”

Kurt chuckled and looked into Adam’s eyes. He’d never imagined he’d get a serenade on a desert island.

“Weeee’d be so grand at the game,” Adam continued, letting his voice go deeper and richer.

“Oh, would we?” Kurt teased.

“So carefree together that it does seem a shaaaaaaaaame.” He shoved the pole into the sand again and gave Kurt a lift up. “That you can’t see,” he almost whispered, slowing the tempo, “a future with meeeee…”

“Oh, Adam,” Kurt murmured and caressed the side of his face.

“‘Cause you’re so damn easy to loooove.” Adam kissed Kurt’s nose gently.

Kurt rubbed his hand up and down Adam’s back, then smiled wickedly. He didn’t know if he had the strength, but…

“My story is much to sad to be toooold,” Kurt sang, letting his voice resonate clear and bright. Then he said through the side of his mouth, “And who’d wanna hear  _that_ anyway!”

“Ha ha! Kurt, of course, I do…”

“But these days practically  _everything_ leaves me totally cold.” Kurt traced his finger down Adam’s nose and then bobbed the tip. “The only exception I know is the  _casssse_ — When I’m out on a  _quiet_  spree, fighting vainly that  _old_  ennuuuui and I suddenly turn and _see:_   Your. Fabulous. Faaace.”

Adam bowed his head and nuzzled Kurt’s nose. “You’d! Be!” he sang.

“I get no kick from champaaagne!”

“So easy to love…”

“Mere alcohol doesn’t thrill me at all!”

“So easy to idolize…”

“So tell me why it should be truuue?”

  
“All others above…”

“That I get a  _kick_  outta  _yooou?”_ Kurt poked Adam’s chest, causing another laugh.

He held Kurt up firmly as he twirled them around, adding “Some get a kick from cocaaaiiine?”

“I’m sure that  _if_  I took even one little  _sniff_ ,” Kurt answered. “That it would bore me terrifically toooo….”

“Yet I get a  _kick_ outta you,” they sang together.

Kurt draped his arms around Adam’s neck and leaned on him so he could deliver this properly and increase the power of his voice, even if he was starting to feel weak. “I get a  _kick_  ev’rytime I  _see_ you standing there  _before_  me! I get a kick though it’s clear to me… You obviously  _don’t_  adore me…”

His lips curved to the side.

Adam shot back, “You  _are_  so easy to love! So easy to  _idolize_ , all others above!”

“So worth yearning for,” Kurt sang.

“So swell to keep every home fire burning for.”

“Ohhhhh, how we’d bloom, how we’d thrive!”

Adam grinned. “In a brownstone for two, or even three-” He leaned in. “-four! Or Fiiiiive!”

“So try to see, your future with me,” Kurt sang more softly.

“Cause you’re so easy, oh, so easy,” they harmonized together, “to loooooove.”

Kurt stared up at him, his face feeling hot enough to cook their dinners for them. He let out a shuddery breath and pressed his face into Adam’s bare shoulder.

“Adam, I…” His voice cracked, and he went a little limp.

“I heard.” Adam pressed his cheek against the back of Kurt’s head, then lifted him up in his arms again.

“I do appreciate the romantic aspect of this, but I’m not sure how I feel about being a fainting damsel,” Kurt murmured.

“Damsels don’t risk their lives for strange children and teach the dashing male lead how to survive,” Adam shot back. 

“In Disney they do,” Kurt argued.

“Hm. Then Disney has improved.” Adam stepped back onto the trail that took them to the shack. It was at least cooler in there, out of the sun. “How do you feel?”

“A little dizzy. Probably… the singing…”

“Or the starving.” Adam laid him down on the small cot they shared and cupped his cheek. “You’re a little flushed, too. Mind if I…?”

Adam motioned to his wound. Kurt nodded and let him untie the shirt. 

“It’s a little red still.” Adam reached over to the first aid kit he’d found in the shack and patted antiseptic over his skin. 

Kurt winced, but gave him a stiff smile. “Maybe a new bandage.”

“Trying to get my pants off, are you?”

“Or you could use my shirt. Or we could use some leaves.”

“The last thing we need is for me to give you poison oak.”

“Do there look to be any oak trees on this island resort?”

Adam didn’t answer. He just leaned over and kissed Kurt’s forehead. 

“It took me longer,” Kurt said, watching the seriousness in Adam’s eyes. He just needed to chase any uncertainty out of his mind. “Because I have so much baggage. I didn’t want to hurt you, or push this when I wasn’t able to give you-”

Adam petted both sides of Kurt’s face. “Sweetheart, I know. I know.”

Kurt put his hands over Adam’s, the slid his hands down Adam’s wrists. “It just scares me a little. And I think of how easy it would be, how easy it has been with you. You make me feel good. You support me. And I just feel like… I don’t deserve it.”

“ _Kurt_ …”

“I think if you’d been less wonderful, it would have been less alarming to get into a relationship with you.” Kurt closed his eyes. Why was he bringing this up?

“I have my flaws, too, you know.”

“Doesn’t matter. Just… if… I want you to have…” Kurt closed his eyes for a moment, took in a deep breath, and tried again. “Have someone whole. I’m not  _done_  ye…”

—-

Adam sat in the sand, looking at his hands and listening to the waves, and remembering the feel of Kurt’s lips against his, and of his lips against Kurt’s warm forehead.

He hadn’t expected the night before. And he hadn’t expected today. He wondered if he’d go on being surprised like this for the rest of his life, forever astonished that Kurt had decided to risk this.

Maybe it was a dream. Maybe he had heatstroke. Maybe Kurt had decided, since he might be dying anyway and they were going to starve or dehydrate here, that it was worth a go.

But the way Kurt had looked at him, with his ridiculously huge, gorgeous eyes as they’d sung together… Kurt was a fine actor. Adam knew that. He’d visited Kurt’s acting class with a few of the other seniors. But this was real.

Wasn’t it?

He stood to check the line, but nothing had bitten yet. Remembering what Kurt had said about live bait, he wondered where a good place would be to dig up worms. He grimaced and stood to look around.

All afternoon, his head was crowded with worries, but also stuffed with air. They hadn’t eaten since… Adam closed his eyes and counted the days. Not that they could cook anything if they could find food. It was getting overcast again already.

That was when the fishing rod jerked out of his hands.

He caught it with both hands. Staggering forward, he held onto that rod for dear life. Eventually he was able to pull it back and start reeling in the line.

Adam blinked in disbelief. It was a net that he was pulling up. He put down the rod and untangled the hook. A fishing net. He sighed heavily. The problem was, he’d need a much bigger boat than he had available (and about three other guys) to  _use_  that net. So he pulled it off to the side of the beach out of the way.

And he went back to work with the rod.

That evening, he returned to the shack, hoping that Kurt wouldn’t be too out of it. He was in luck. Kurt was not only awake, but sorting through the piles of rubbish in that shack and setting things to the side that might be of use.

“Hey, lovah,” Kurt teased as Adam walked in.

“Hullo. I uh… no fish, yet.”

“Hm. Well. We’ll come up with something.” Kurt leaned back against the cot and waved his hand over the items he’d found. “We might be able to start a fire, with this set here. And there’s a flare gun. If you ever see a plane out there.”

“Oh, that’s… fantastic.” Adam sat beside him. He looked down at the supplies. 

Kurt reached over and took his hand. “What?”

“Hm?”

“Don’t do that. Don’t pretend nothing’s wrong. I can’t handle that kind of thing. Just tell me, okay?”

“It’s not that dire, darling. I’m just wishing I’d gotten us some food.” Adam leaned over onto Kurt’s shoulder. He smiled as Kurt’s hand petted over his head.

“ _Dah-_ ling,” Kurt teased.

“Oh. That wasn’t intentional. Do you mind?”

“Not if you don’t mind a honey or a babe every once and a while. I’ve never really had a nickname of any kind. Except kiddo, from my dad. Or… well, homophobic slurs.”

“Those don’t count.”

“No.”

Adam smiled and stroked Kurt’s hand with his thumb. “ _Dah_ -ling.”

Kurt chuckled.

“Lovely.”

Kurt dipped his head. His ears started to go pink.

“Angel.”

“Stop,” Kurt whispered.

“You don’t like that one?” Adam reached up and stroked his chin.

“No, it’s just… I’m not used to hearing that kind of thing.”

Adam snuggled into his side. “Well, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“I’ll tell you when I am. As long as you keep listening, we’ll be okay.” Kurt paused. “You, too, okay?”

“I can’t think of a single thing you might do that I would have a problem with.”

“Oh? Then bend over, boyfriend.”

Adam laughed heartily. “You’re in no condition. And we have no condoms. But otherwise, you’re welcome.”

“Maybe when I don’t have a hole in my guts.”

Adam rubbed a hand over Kurt’s thigh and then patted him. “Well. We’ve a bit of water left. No food. No fire. And a cot.”

“That leaves our options open, right?” Kurt’s lips twisted to the side.

And soon they were on Adam’s again.

_I’ll tell you._

He really was quite forthright.

—-

Adam woke once more to the sound of a loud ‘thwack!’ He reached over for Kurt, but finding him missing once again, he hopped up, pulled on his trousers, and hurried outside.

“Kurt! Kurt, are you out there?” he called.

“This way!” Kurt answered after a moment.

Adam hurried through the bushes and stopped, hearing another ‘THWACK!!’ It took him one more moment to catch up, and then… there Kurt was. 

Holding his side as he walked over to a tree, where a bird was pinned with a knife.

“Oh…” Adam stared on in disbelief. 

Kurt smiled at him and leaned against the tree. “I got us breakfast. If you’re a good mother plucker.”

Adam simply walked over to him, cupped his face, and kissed him eagerly. This man was so amazing, he could barely stand it.

—-

Eventually, Kurt was well enough to help Adam take the boat out for fishing, and Kurt could trap some animals and forage for other supplies for their diet. Catching and boiling rain water kept them from keeling over from thirst. And so they made their days bearable in spite of everything.

And nights… nights they twined together like their lives depended on the shared touch. Their hands and mouths explored one another’s bodies. Kurt didn’t even mind that they were less than pristine, because what did that matter now? 

“Every line of you is grace,” Adam murmured, trailing his fingers along Kurt’s abdomen.

“Stop,” he replied quietly. 

“It’s true.” Adam peppered his collarbone with kisses. “It’s the truest thing that has ever been.”

“The sun has gone to your brain, and made you a blind poet,” Kurt teased. “How else could you look at  _this_ and say  _that_?”

“No. Stop.” Adam rested his head on Kurt’s shoulder and stroked his cheekbone with his thumb. “Don’t speak badly of this man I love so much.”

Kurt blinked.

Adam’s brows shot up. “Oh. Oh, I’m sorry…”

“It’s okay. I’m just…” Kurt sucked in his lower lip, and cradled his arm around Adam’s back. “Believe me, just because I’m not there first, doesn’t mean I’ll love you any less.”

“I’m not asking for any more than you can give,” Adam assured him.

Somehow that gentle acceptance that Kurt couldn’t honestly just  _declare love_  only made him feel worse.

“It’s just that my faith in romance and love has-”

“Darling. I know. Don’t you think I understand? I understood the first time you turned me down.” Adam’s fingers twined through Kurt’s hair, which was starting to get long in the back. “When you said that romance and happy endings were made up as heterosexual propaganda, dear, I got what you were feeling.”

Kurt looked down into Adam’s eyes. He lifted his hand to trace Adam’s cheekbone, then his eyebrows, and then his nose. “I think I still believe that. But…even though all the romantic songs seemed ruined, and all my favorite movies just made me cry in a bad way… Being on this island with you. Just caring for each other.” He smiled. “Singing to each other… This feels like romance.”

“Does it,” Adam breathed.

“And I feel like I’m starting to believe in it.” Kurt closed his eyes and pressed his forehead into Adam’s. “It scares me, Adam.”

“I know.” Adam kissed his lips softly. His hand moved down the small of Kurt’s back. “It’s quiet fine to be scared.”

“I don’t know if I can live through having my heart broken like that again. I  _really_  don’t.”

Adam held him tightly. “That’s why we’re going slow. That’s why I  _waited_ , you know.”

“But… the last few weeks… almost drowning, burning up from that fever, starving, freezing…” 

Kurt opened his eyes and caressed Adam’s hair.

“I’m starting to reevaluate what I can survive.”

Their lips came together fiercely, and Kurt held Adam so tightly that his limbs ached

 


	3. The Boy Who Made Magic...

It had rained the day of the memorial. Burt had stood with Carole leaning into his side and holding his hand tightly. Finn had been on his other side, shoulders bowed over by the weight of loss. Kurt’s friends from in town were seated close to the front, but Burt didn’t have any more energy for the kids right now.

His little boy was dead. They hadn’t even found his body. Burt had prayed so many nights for God to take him instead. To bring the cancer back, if only they would find his son  _alive_.

When the service started, he had taken his cap off in respect. But he had worn the NYADA cap Kurt had given him, because Kurt was so used to seeing it. Burt figured it comforted Kurt sometimes to see his dad as he should look, and not trussed up in a suit with a bare head. There were other things that should have been done at Kurt’s funeral, but for the  _life_  of him, Burt could not remember what they were when he was asked.

Rachel, Mercedes, and Santana came to the front after the pastor had said a few (brief, out of respect for Kurt’s feelings) words to uplift the crowd.

“We’d like to sing a song for our favorite guy in the whole wide world,” Mercedes said. “The boy who taught us that we  _deserved_  to be treated like queens.”

“The boy who told-” Santana faltered and covered her mouth as the tears she was fighting choked her.

Rachel touched her shoulder and spoke. “The boy who made magic for everyone around him.”

“This song is a weird choice, considering what happened, but I really think he would have chosen it himself,” Mercedes explained. “He always loved Celine Dion. He once led the McKinley High cheerleading team to victory, singing her songs for them to perform to,  _in French._ This was one of his guilty pleasure songs. And the movie was, too, even if he always yelled at Rose at the end to let Jack get on that damn piece of wood with her.” Mercedes gave a soft laugh, and the crowd followed.

Santana wiped her eyes and nodded to the others, and they began.

_Every night in my dreams, I see you, I feel you. That is how I know you go on._

_Far across the distance and spaces between us, you have come to show you go on._

Burt had choked a little. It was funny, sort of, at the same time it was terrible. And Kurt _would have_  chosen that sappy song from  _Titanic_. To make people cry. To make them smile. The year it came out, Kurt had sung the melody of it with his mother so many times that Burt could hum along with it in stores when it came on over the radio. By the time Kurt was old enough to actually watch the movie, Burt had the damn song memorized and occasionally had it pop into his head while he was working.

Then he’d turn around and beg Lizzie to sing something,  _anything_ , else.

_“Rose, move your fat ass over and let him get out of the freezing water!” Kurt threw popcorn at the screen, and beside him, Blaine just laughed and shook his head in disbelief._

_“Get used to it,” Burt advised the boy in the Dalton uniform as he strolled in and leaned on the back of the couch. “He always does this.”_

_Blaine raised his brows and watched Kurt instead of the movie, still laughing softly._

_“Stupid ging’,” Kurt muttered. Then he sunk back into the sofa. “C’mon. Let Leo on your floaty door. He’s too cute to die.”_

_“I don’t think the wood would have floated if Jack had gotten on the door with her,” Blaine said, frowning a little in confusion._

_“Unn.” Kurt scrunched up his face and started to huff in anticipation of the next scene unfolding. As Rose realized that Jack was dead, a tear started to trickle down his cheek, and Burt rubbed his shoulders. Why Kurt watched these sad movies that made him upset, he had no idea._

What blew you away was that there were just  _so many_  people there at the memorial. Not just from their small McKinley group. There were friends from Lima, his French teacher, Will and Emma Schuester, that crazy Sylvester woman with her baby, one or two boys from Dalton and one of the teachers from the school, a smattering of young gay boys that Burt had only seen once or twice talking to Kurt and getting advice, and the Karofsky boy, who looked like someone had reached into his chest and crushed is heart with one hand. A cluster of Kurt friends from NYADA had come as well. At group of at least twenty. And then he spotted a tiny, well-dressed blond woman. Probably one of the ones from New York, but she was in her forties, at  _least_. She approached the front as though floating in her fancy heels and reached for the picture, as though she might caress the side of Kurt’s smiling face.

“Not much of a fairy godmother after all, hm?” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

Burt didn’t understand what that meant, but he could see in her pained expression that she had tried to care for Kurt. That wasn’t a detail he would miss.

A lot of it washed over Burt. He just couldn’t focus. But so many people came up to speak. So many people shared stories of things Kurt had done for them. So many had songs they wanted to share with the group for Kurt. (Few as wickedly and beautifully appropriate as the first. Though Santana returned to the front to sing a slow, sad version of Pink’s “Perfect” with Brittany, and Burt knew Kurt used to sing that song a lot when he was bummed.)

And when a woman came up to the front with a tiny little girl at her side, Burt felt his heart surging in his chest. Kurt’s voice urged him in his head to take it easy. 

“My name is Melissa Reed, and this is my little girl Amy.” She pulled the girl up into her arms. “Kurt Hummel saved my daughter’s life. When the ship started to go down, Amy slipped from my arms, and quick as the  _Flash_ , that boy  _left_  his safety at the stage and grabbed her. He held on…  _so tightly_ to the tables, and when the staff came to rescue them, he got  _her_  into the man’s arms  _first_. I didn’t know him. I’d never met Kurt Hummel. All I know is that he had a  _beautiful_  voice, and he was a  _hero_.”

She leaned her girl towards the mike. “Amy? Sweetheart?”

“Thankoo, mista Kuwt.”

A high, strangled sound came from Carole’s throat, and Burt squeezed her tightly.

God, if Kurt only knew how much he had mattered to all of these people. All those times he’d been beaten down or depressed, if he could have only seen this.

Kurt Hummel had been a well-loved young man. With him gone, the world was missin’ out.

—-

It had been three weeks since hearing about the cruise ship going down. And a week since the memorial service. Burt didn’t know whether it was better or worse that they didn’t have a body to deal with. But the amount of time didn’t seem to be having any effect. 

Burt still felt like he had his insides removed. He’d had a fairly explosive fight with Carole about what to do about Kurt’s room. Finn was talking about taking a break from college, even though he’d really just started. Sam had pretty much stopped washing his hair and spent most of his time in the guest room, aside from the times he emerged to steal dry pasta of all the crazy things.

Burt wished that he could do something more for them. But he had nothing.

Just nothing.

—-

“Whadda ya want?” Burt stared down at the tiny blond girl, an Asian girl wearing pigtails and a frilly baby doll dress, and a tall young man whose mouth seemed to be sewn on crooked. They’d come to the shop earlier, and he didn’t have the time to talk to them. Especially since they didn’t appear to have a car.

“We… We called,” the young man said. “Um…”

“Well, you got my attention now. What.”

They looked between each other. Burt scowled and started to shut the door.

“It’s about Kurt,” the blond girl said. 

Burt stared them down. “You press?”

They looked at each other in surprise, but between working in the state senate and the public coverage of the loss of his son, he’d learned that some plucky reporters were quite young.

“No,” the Asian girl shook her head. “I’m My. This is Kiera and Joey. We were Kurt’s friends at NYADA. We wanted to talk to you about using one of Kurt’s scripts. He’d showed it to Adam, and… Adam just loved it. I know Adam was helping him revise it.”

“N-not that there was anything wrong, just… Adam had already taking script writing classes and arrangement, and… y’know. British,” Joey said.

“We want to put it on and donate the money we make to The Trevor Project. We know that was important to him,” Kiera said. 

“Then why don’t you ask  _Adam_? He probably saved it,” Burt said.

“Adam… didn’t survive the shipwreck either,” Kiera said in a strained tone.

“He jumped out of the life raft when Kurt… He tried to save him, but…” My wrinkled her nose and looked own at her shiny pink shoes.

Burt tightened his jaw. “I’m sorry. C’mon in.”

Kiera came in first, followed by the others, and Joey looked around, bunching his lips together. 

“What do you need?” Burt asked. He motioned vaguely for them to sit, but none of them did.

“We need to see if he had any of the notes in his room, or on his computer, maybe,” My said. “We looked through Adam’s computer, and we couldn’t find the edits, so we thought maybe Kurt had them. We wouldn’t have bothered you with this, sir, but it’s the last thing they created, so…”

Burt touched the girl’s shoulder as her tears got the best of her. “I haven’t opened that room in a while. Find what you need. Don’t make a mess.”

He let out a heavy sigh and headed to the kitchen to make some coffee. “Kurt didn’t like a mess.”

—-

Realizing that he was never going to get over this came slow. Though it should have been a forgone conclusion. Even knowing that there was a group of energetic young people in New York, dedicated to making sure that Kurt and his friend Adam were both remembered, even knowing that so many people’s lives had been touched by his amazing boy, even knowing that he had Carole and Finn, Burt slowly came to know that there was no going back to happy. There was no going back to remotely okay.

The best he could do was promise Carole that he’d try harder to be a person. And when he did that, she kissed his brow and told him to stop worrying about her. Finn sat next to him on the sofa, and the two of them watched sports, silently. They would heal around each other, eventually. Maybe after a few years had passed.

And then the phone rang. Kurt had been lost twenty-seven days, and it had been sixteen since they’d been told the search was officially off and they should try to accept that it was extremely unlikely that Kurt could have survived. And the phone rang.

Burt’s eyes were glued to the television when Carole came into the room. 

“We’ll be there… Can you give me the name of the hospital again?”

Burt didn’t look up. Finn just looked at him. Carole thanked the person on the phone at least three times. Then she put the phone down and came over to the sofa. 

“Honey. Honey, listen,” she said.

Burt raised a brow. “What’s up? Your aunt again?” he grunted.

“They  _found him_ ,” she managed, struggling to breath. “Burt, they found him. He’s in a hospital-”

Burt was up on his feet, clutching her shoulders, and she looked up and laughed.

“They…” Burt bobbed his head in disbelief. “They found ‘im. They found  _Kurt_?!”

She nodded and let out another joyous laugh as tears started down her cheeks. Suddenly Finn’s arms were around them both. 

“Wait… Hospital? He’s in the hospital?” Burt said, stepping back.

“They didn’t say what happened.” Carole shook her head. “But if he’s been in a life boat for… The Coast Guard said that he’d have either drown or frozen within a few days. I’m guessing that he needs treatment from exposure at the least.”

“Well, whatever it is, I wanna see him,” Finn said.

“Pack,” Burt ordered. He jogged upstairs and rapped on Sam’s door. “Get your butt in the shower and pack a bag if you wanna come with us to New York.”

Sam cracked the door open and looked out. “What?”

“They found Kurt.” Burt punched the boy’s shoulder lightly and turned around. He needed to book them on the first plane up there.

He couldn’t wait to see his little boy.

—-

When doctors spoke, it was usually bad news. They’d all been hoping that Kurt would be ready to go when they got there, but it had just been a hope. Burt could see in the doctor’s eyes as she approached that she didn’t have good news.

“Mr. Hummel? I’m Doctor Reyes. Oh, is this… the family?”

She looked at the cluster of people behind him. Carole, Finn, Sam, and Blaine, and then  Rachel, Santana, and Mercedes, who had heard the news and gotten to the hospital first, but couldn’t get any information on Kurt since they weren’t family.

“This is everyone we could bring on short notice.” Burt crossed his arms. “What’s goin’ on with my son? Is he…?”

She held up a hand. “He’s still in surgery. When the Coast Guard found them, they were on an island pretty far from the site of the shipwreck. They’ve been through a lot, and first they were treating him for exposure, dehydration, malnutrition-” She nodded with each item she listed off. “-but he sustained a serious injury when the ship was going down a puncture wound to his abdomen, which has partially healed during the time he was stranded on the island. His condition started to go south, so we rushed him in to an exam room as soon as they arrived here.”

“What, you just wanted to root around in there?” Blaine asked angrily. Sam bumped his shoulder.

Burt shot him a look and the boy quieted. He turned back to Dr. Reyes. “You couldn’t give him an MRI?”

“The wound was caused by debris from the ship. We were afraid he might still have part of the metal inside him, which would have drastically bad results if we put him in an MRI.” She took a breath. “So far we  _have_  found one fragment, and repaired some damage. He’ll be out soon, but he’ll probably have a longer recovery than you’d hoped-”

“Doc,” Burt said, putting up a hand. “I’m just grateful he’s alive.”

Carole clung to his arm. “You’ll let us know when he’s out of surgery? How soon can he see us?”

“When he gets out of surgery, we’ll have him in post-op for a little bit. And after that, you’ll be able to see him. His system is pretty taxed.”

  
“Does that mean… What does that mean?” Burt asked.

“It means the sooner he wakes up, the better sign it’ll be.”

“My son’s the stubbornest son of a gun in the world. He’ll wake up.”

—-

Adam’s eyes opened to the bright hospital lights. 

_“Is that a plane?”_

_“Get the flare gun!”_

He closed them.

_“God, how long have you two been out here?”_

_“Kurt, wake up!”_

“I need to see him,” Adam murmured.

“Are you awake?”

_“He does this sometimes… I think it’s because of the wound in his side… but it’s healed, on the outside…”_

_“There’s likely to be internal bleeding.”_

_“Get the oxygen.”_

_“Will he be all right?”_

_“Well, will he??”_

“Mr. Crawford?” The nurse touched Adam’s shoulder. 

He opened his eyes again. “Can I go now?”

“No.” She rolled her eyes and checked the pillows on his bed. “You were stuck out there almost a month. Give yourself a break.”

“Do you know how he’s doing? Is he all right?”

“Your friend? I don’t know, honey.”

Adam pushed his hands through his hair and pushed himself up. “I need to see him. Do you understand? Please, if he’s sick again, or hurt-”

Her hands pressed against his shoulders. “Mr. Crawford, you need to stay in bed.”

“There’s nothing  _wrong_ with me!”

“No, you came in dehydrated and malnourished, and you have had prolonged heat exhaustion and sun exposure,” she lectured. “We need to monitor your  _heart_  for a few days, among other things,  _not to mention_ you have seventeen stitches in your leg and an infection. You  _have_ to stay in bed.”

Adam gave up and laid back in the bed. “Could you  _please_  just ask someone?”

“I’ll see what I can do, but you’re not family. I can’t release his condition to you without talking to his fam-.”

“Please, just ask someone.”

“I  _will_. Mr. Crawford, just be patient. Okay?”

Adam curled his arms around himself. They’d been lucky that the plane had circled over them when it had. Kurt had been starting to get weak again, and there was nothing either of them could do. They tried to get enough water. Kurt used his bizarre aim and ability to handle knives (he’d said he actually trained on short swords) to supplement their food supply, and they created as comfortable a place for themselves as possible.

But it was hard work, and Kurt had never fully healed. That was obvious, even if he was no longer bleeding. And once Adam had cut his leg inadvertently on a rock… The plane spotting them and sending for help was the best thing that could have happened.

Kurt had slumped into Adam while they were being lifted back to the coast, and the medics had gotten so serious, so quickly. Adam had held his hand, cradled him and whispered that they would have help soon…

_“I’ll never let go, dahling. Angel.”_

The moment they were at the hospital, they were separated, and Adam hadn’t seen Kurt since, despite a few promises that they were taking care of him. He knew that Kurt had to be treated right away. He might have rallied again, or he might not, but delaying at this point would be stupid. 

But being separated from Kurt when he didn’t know if he would be okay was  _painful_. They’d been by one another’s side through all of this. Adam’s head swam with worry and fever and medication.

Adam rested his arm across his stomach and listened to the beeping of his heart monitor. His eyes drifted up to the screen, then back to the door.

As he slipped out the door, he ignored the sound of the flatline.

—-

Only a few family members were allowed in the ICU waiting room, so Carole had sent the kids on back to the apartment and promised them to let them know when they had news. Finn had chosen to stay, and Burt had settled in to wait. Occasionally, a doctor would come out to let them know that Kurt was doing well in surgery, but all of them were very anxious.

“It’s been an hour,” Finn muttered.

“Surgery takes a long time. They have to be real careful in there, especially if they think he already has internal bleeding to patch up,” Burt said.

Finn leaned forward on his legs. “Kurt always takes his time getting ready.”

Carole smiled and rubbed Finn’s back.

“I’m gonna go get us some coffee,” Burt said.

“I could get it,” Carole offered.

“Nah. I need to be movin’ around.” Burt stood and stretched. “Beep me if they get him outta surgery.”

He strolled down the hallway, adjusting his cap and trying to get his back to pop. He was still tense, but his entire body felt different. 

Because Kurt was alive. And he was fightin’ in there.

Burt’s eyes caught sight of a tall young man in a hospital gown with powerful arms and messy blond hair. He was white as a ghost, and leaning on his IV stand a little as he hobbled his way down the hallway.

  
Barefoot. They usually gave patients booties if they were gonna let ‘em go on a stroll.

“Hey there, buddy. You okay?” Burt asked, stepping forward, just as the man leaned into the wall.

“Oh, I’m fine,” the man, British man, said. But his voice was wobbly and his shoulders sagged.

Burt offered an arm. “Y’need help back to your room?”

“No! No. I…” He looked down, then lifted his head to gaze in front of him. 

Burt inched closer. “Not tryin’ to crowd you or anything, but you look like you’re gonna keel over.”

“You forget, how much you’re running on adrenaline, and keeping on… because he _needs_  you,” the man said, meeting Burt’s eye.

Burt nodded, even though he didn’t understand. “I’m sure he appreciated it.”

“Of  _course_. He never let me doubt  _that_.” The man’s blue eyes started to get teary.

He was on medication for sure. That much was obvious. And there was a large bandage around his leg. It must’ve been hard for him to be up and walking at all.

“Let’s get you a chair, then?” Burt suggested.

A nurse came hurrying with an orderly up to them. “Mr. Crawford, you need to get back to bed. We thought you were coding!”

“I’m  _fine_!” the man snapped.

“Hey.” Burt touched his arm gently. “Maybe we can find somethin’ out about your boyfriend. Send someone to find out while you get back in bed. Somehow I’m thinkin’ he wouldn’t want you getting worse just because you were worried about him. Would he? Wouldn’t he want you to be taken care of?”  


“He would… I just need to know if he’s all right. But I can’t. I’m not family.”

Burt nodded slowly. He looked at the nurse. “Did the family say no?”

She shook her head. “Sir, I just got on my shift. I don’t know anything about this, but I _promise_ -” She looked up at her patient. “-I will find out where he is, and if we’ve found his family, and if you can see him.”

“Thank you,” the man whispered.

“ _Your_  family’s here. Would you like to come back and see them?” she asked as the orderly pulled over a wheelchair.

“Mum’s here? Already?” 

With a gentle pat from Burt, the young man let himself be helped into the chair.

“Oh, no, it was your father, and your sister.”

His eyes went round. “My  _father_.”

“Good luck,” Burt told him.

The man nodded and reached over to squeeze Burt’s hand.

Poor guy.

—-

“When he starts to come out of the anesthesia, he may wake a few times,” Dr. Reyes warned.  “He’ll probably be disoriented, and he may feel a little sick.”

“But the surgery was fine?” Carole asked, again.

“He’s doing extremely well. The debris inside him did do some damage, but we were able to repair it. He showed no problems in post opt. It’s possible that he  _could_  make a full recovery.”

Burt swallowed and sat in the chair by Kurt’s bed. He looked so pale, and fragile. But he’d gone down with a shipwreck and survived on a deserted island for nearly a month.

“This kid. He’s amazing,” he muttered.

“He definitely is,” Dr. Reyes agreed.

Carole and Finn joined Burt by Kurt’s side as the doctor left the room. Burt reached over and took Kurt’s hand. His eyes fluttered.

“Where’d…?” Kurt muttered.

Burt squeezed his hand. Kurt scrunched his brow up, blinked at them, and fell back asleep.

Finn laughed softly.

“Yeah, this is basic anesthesia stuff,” Burt told him with a smile. “God, look at ‘im.”

“He looks really… white,” Finn said.

“He just got out of surgery,” Carole pointed out.

“And dry,” Finn added. “I brought some of his moisturizers in my overnight bag. Y’know, if he wants them.”

“That’s so sweet,” Carole chuckled.

“Don’t I… um…” Kurt said, opening his eye a little. He stared at them once again.

“Hey,” Burt said softly.

“Oh… Oh, um…” His face crumbled as though he was about to cry.

Burt could only grin from ear to ear and reach over to hug his boy. “It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s me. It’s us.”

“D-dad?”

Burt petted the back of his hair gently, and Finn patted Kurt’s leg.

Kurt blinked at them sluggishly. “Oh! Omigod!” he said suddenly.

“We’re right here. It’s just the anesthesia,” Carole reassured him.

“God, we are so glad to see you again,” Burt said. He bowed his head and wiped away a tear. “Kurt… God, Kurt, we thought you were gone.”

He kept shaking his head, and Carole rubbed his back. She and Finn exchanged a smile. They let him doze again, and wake a few times more only to seem surprised and confused at their presence each time. 

Soon Finn was just shaking in laughter, and Burt knew that they all felt so much relief to see Kurt, even if he was drugged out of his mind. He was  _here_ , and he was still in their family.

“Dad… Is that you?” Kurt muttered after sleeping for a little bit longer.

Burt rubbed his thumb over the crease in Kurt’s forehead. “Yeah. It’s me. And Carole and Finn.”

Kurt screwed his brows together. Then he started to sit up to reach for Burt.

“Whoa, whoa. Slow your roll.” Burt placed a hand on Kurt’s chest. “You just went through some pretty major surgery. Just let us do for  _you_ , okay? We’re all here for ya.”

“Unn.” Kurt shook his head, but reached to put his hand over Burt’s. Then blinked at them slowly. “I’m… confused.”

“That’s okay,” Carole encouraged again.

“Dude, you are so high,” Finn said.

Carole gave him a look, but Kurt returned with a wobbly smile.

“I missed you so much. Missed you all  _so much_ ,” Kurt murmured.

Burt slipped his arm around Kurt’s shoulders and rubbed his chest. “We’re not goin’ anywhere.”


	4. Visiting Hours

Adam rubbed his eyes and shifted in his chair. When he looked up, he spotted his father braying at one of the nurses. The man had always been able to project sheer amount of volume. Adam had some rather vivid childhood memories. Dillon Ramsey was not a man to be trifled with. Nor was he apparently happy to find that his son, who had been missing for almost a month, was missing again from his hospital bed.

“Dad?” Adam looked up at him in disbelief.

The large, blond man put his hands on his hips and glared at the nurse. “So where’d he get off to? Hm?”

Adam tented his brows and sighed.

“He just went into the hallway looking for the friend he came in with,” the nurse answered. 

“And you just let ‘im go? Is that how you run your medical facilities here?” he boomed. “Is it too much to ask for a  _modicum_ of professionalism?”

“Dad, cut it out.” Adam’s little sister, Gale, swatted her big father’s arm and scurried over to the bed. After the nurse had helped Adam back into it, she threw her arms around his neck and squeezed. “Aaa _daaam_ ,” she whined.

“Oh, I’m all right, pickle.” Adam kissed her cheek and rubbed her back. “No fussing, yeah?”

“I thought you were  _gone_ ,” she said through little huffs.

“Honey, let go of our wayfarer for a minute so I can get him set up?” the nurse asked.

Gale stepped back and looked down at him, twirling the ends of her long blond hair and raking her eyes up and down as the nurse settled him in with pillows to prop him up, put the heart monitor back in place, and checked his drip.

“What’s all this then?” Dillon demanded.

“We’re just testing his resting heartbeat right now. His body has been under a large strain, and he has a low grade fever from the infection in his leg,” the nurse explained. “I can get the doctor in here to give you a full-”

“Do that.” Dillon put his hands on his hips. “Well, yeah, go on, won’t you?”

She gave him a firm look and turned back to the IV bag. “When I’m  _done_.”

Dillon raised his brows. Adam looked down and smiled. His father could be an intense man. He didn’t always mean to be so abrasive. And it made Adam feel a little better to have his father here, making one of his big fusses over him. Gale pulled up a chair next to Adam.

“Shouldn’t you be in school?” Adam asked, tweeking her cheek.

“No, they let me off today on account of you being alive. God, you look rough. What happened out there? Did you get bitten by a shark?” 

Adam chuckled and touched her hair gently. “No, sweetheart. I just slipped when I was out trying to fish and cut my leg open on a rock.”

“Can’t rightly imagine you fishing,” Dillon said. He pulled up a chair of his own.

Adam looked to his nurse, who patted his shoulder and gave him a smile before leaving the room. “You do what you have to.”

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” Gale said. “Mum’ll be here in a few hours. It’s a long trip. She was really excited on the phone.”

He turned his head and looked at his father. “So. Long time.”

“Well, it’s been a busy year, but who skips out when their son’s in the hospital?” Dillon said gruffly. 

“Yeah.” 

Adam looked down at his hands. It had been years since he and his father had been face to face, and phone calls tended to be brief, simply the exchange of information. It wasn’t the result of a fight, or any repudiation on either side. The man had simply been swallowed up by work and his new family. Adam saw Gale more often, since he could drop in and visit her at her school, but he had little connection with his father’s new wife and little boy Adrian. That Adam now lived in New York full time hadn’t much impact on their relationship. He wasn’t sure why he’d ever thought that it would.

  
Though his father had sent him some money when he’d gotten into NYADA, with a few warnings about certain professors. He cared, in his way.

“Tell me about being stranded at sea!” Gale patted her knees excitedly.

“Oh, all right. But keep this under wraps-” Adam spread his hands, palms down as the grinned softly at her. “-my friend and I are going to be writing a musical about this one.”

“Yeah?” Dillon chuckled deeply. “Well, I’ll prepare to give some notes then.”

Adam rolled his eyes.

—-

He woke to find himself alone once more. Gale had probably been collected by her stepmother, and his father… who knew. He might be talking to the doctors, or he might have stepped out to do some business while Adam slept. 

There was a rap on the doorframe, and Adam looked up to see the man who had helped him back in the hallway a few hours before.

“Hullo,” Adam said.

“You feelin’ any better? Did your family come?” He sounded like he might be from in-state, or maybe a bit further north. Something about it made Adam feel more comfortable, not that his shyness had really ever come out just from talking to strangers.

“Come and gone. They’ll be back.” Adam pushed a hand back through his hair and arched his back. “It’s all right. I probably won’t be in here too long. I was a bit loopy before, but… I’m actually not that bad off.”

“Yeah?” The man stepped closer. “So why’re they monitorin’ your heart?”

Adam touched one of the wires taped to his chest. “I assume there’s a risk that I might have had some kind of strain.”

The man nodded and touched the brim of his ball cap. “You don’t wanna let that stuff go. If there’s a chance, better to know early.”

“Agreed,” Adam said. “Thank you, by the way, for listening earlier.”

“Yeah, well.” He shrugged. “Can’t keep a man away from his boyfriend.”

Adam smiled easily.

“They told you anything?”

“No. Just that he was in surgery, and he came out of it okay, and they’re only allowing in family just now because he needs to rest.” Adam sighed. “I guess that’s all I need to know right now. If true, I’ll see him again soon. I hope.”

The man frowned. “His family’s not keepin’ you from him?”

“Not likely. He talks about his father like he might be the PFLAG dad of the year.” Adam smirked slightly. “He’s  _crazy_  about him. They sound so close. It’s sweet, really. Makes me nervous to meet the fellow, though, right?”

The man looked down and chuckled. “Yeah, I’m sure. My son’s last boyfriend… I don’t remember meeting him really. I think the first time he was bouncing around in his school uniform on my friggin’ furniture singing ‘Survivor,’ with my son doing back-ups. That’s a Beyoncé song.”

Adam chuckled. “That’s a  _great_  way to meet the boyfriend.”

“I dunno. I wasn’t too sure about him at first. But that was before they started dating. He was weird kid. Still is.” He grimaced a little, then laughed. “Anyway. I just wanted to check in on ya. Mine’s asleep, but he’s got my wife and his brother with him. I wasn’t sure if you had anyone.”

“I’m pretty sure they’ll come back. And when my friends realize I’m alive, they’ll be flooding in here as well,” Adam assured him. “I appreciate it, though.”

“They thought you were dead? What happened?” He stepped closer to the bed. “If you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. It’s dead boring laying here, waiting to see if anyone will come to visit you.” 

Adam motioned for the man to take a seat and thought for a moment. The man took a chair, leaned his forearms on his knees, and folded his hands. Adam wasn’t sure where to start, so he started by explaining about the Apples getting a spot on the cruise liner. As he segued onto how the ship started to go down, he caught the strange look of alarm taking over the man’s face.

“Well, I know it’s a harrowing tale, but I haven’t even really gotten to how my boyfriend and I got hurt yet. Should I stop?” Adam asked.

“Your boyfriend,” the man repeated. He frowned and dragged a hand over his mouth.

Adam narrowed his eyes and looked at the man seriously. That was a strange reaction to have. This guy had been talking about his gay son as though it was nothing.

“I’m sorry if-”

“Is your name Adam?” he asked.

“Oh.” Adam shifted himself more toward the man. “I guess I didn’t give it to you. That was a bit rude. Yes, it is. How did you guess?”

The man licked over his lower lip slowly, then reached his right hand out to shake. Adam took it, giving him a confused smile.

“I’m Burt Hummel.”

Adam drew in a sharp breath. He heard the heart monitor speeding up and laughed involuntarily as he looked back at it.

“Not gonna hurt’cha,” Burt promised. He let go and looked Adam over intensely. “You saved my son’s life.”

“I… I didn’t even think about it. I couldn’t grab onto him in the ship, and then I saw him fall…” Adam shook his head. He covered his eyes, feeling the heat of embarrassment and anger coming up his cheeks.

“Hey. It’s okay.” Burt squeezed his arm. “Kurt’s gonna be fine. He’s…” 

He let out a slow breath, and then started detailing what the doctors had told him about Kurt. Adam couldn’t stop his eyes from overflowing when he thought of Kurt in surgery, even if it was inevitable. Burt patted his shoulder as he talked Adam through it. Of course he kept going. He’d seen before just how desperate Adam was to know what was going on.

“I didn’t know you two were together,” Burt said after a long pause.

“We weren’t. Oh, it was uh… I flirted, and then he asked me out, and we dated for a bit, but he called it off because he wasn’t sure he could commit himself completely.” Adam shrugged his head to the side. “While we were on the island, he changed his tune…” He pressed his lips together and swallowed. “Hope he doesn’t change it back.”

“What, you think he would, just because…” Burt pushed his lips out and shook his head.

“Classic bottle episode scenario? We both might die? Carpe diem?”

“Yeah, I dunno. Kurt’s pretty full-force when he feels something, though I can see why he’d put the brakes on a relationship right now. He’s had a hell of a year.”

“Because of the break-up,” Adam nodded.

“‘Cause of that, ‘cause of other things. If you’re up to it, I’ll take you over to his room when he wakes, hm?”

“That’s kind of you. He…” Adam straightened his gown where it had bunched up and bit his lower lip. “He’s not mentioned me, has he?”

“He’s outta his freakin’ mind on painkillers,” Burt said dryly.

Adam almost laughed.

“He was still having a hard time remembering where he was when I left his room.” Burt patted his arm again. “Don’t worry too much. If nothin’ else, I’ll be grateful to you  _forever_ for what you’ve done for Kurt.”

“He did just as much to keep us alive. Even when he felt weak…”

“Yeah?”

Adam chuckled and started to fill Burt in on some of the less risque parts of their time on the island, their failure to fish, Kurt going ninja on the small island creatures, singing to one another on the beach.

He didn’t remember where he left off, but he fell asleep there, with Burt Hummel’s strong hand on his shoulder.

—-

Kurt sunk deep into darkness. He dreamed of sand, and rain, and strong hands moving against his body.

His eyes fluttered open and the room was cold and bright and he flinched away from it.

Then back down into darkness again.

“Oh, sweetie,” Carole’s voice floated over him like a cloud. “It’s okay. Don’t be upset…”

His eyes opened and closed, opened and closed. Occasionally he tuned into the white of the ceiling and the steady beep in the distance.

Fingers brushed over his hair, and a strong thumb rubbed the crease out of his brow.

“Dad…” a weak voice whispered.

“Good boy. Just drink a little, okay?”

His ears still heard the sound of waves against the shore.

“So I joined the school play… I know I never cared all that much about the plays in high school, or acting until my half-assed grab for college in New York, but I figured. Hey. If I’m ever lucky enough to get a sweet job in music education, maybe I can help get some stuff off the ground. So I’ll need to have some experience. It’s a small part, but that’s okay because the directors talk to me about how they make their decisions and stuff…”

Kurt blinked a few times at his brother.

“So uh, yeah. Um. It’s a Tennessee Williams play. I know you were into him.”

“In the play reading group,” Kurt muttered.

“Oh, hey. You awake?” Finn reached over and squeezed his hand. 

“Yeah. Where…” Kurt started to rise and felt a hand on his chest.

“Stay, okay? You’re in the hospital.”

Kurt frowned and looked around. “I am. Oh. Dad was here…”

“Yeah. He was, and mom’s…” Finn jerked his hand towards the chair on the other end of the room where Carole was dozing. “But he’ll be back. I can message him if you want.”

Kurt tried to take in a deep breath and looked down at himself. “I feel funny.”

“Dude, you had major surgery. That weird feeling is your guts being stitched up.”

Kurt continued to stare at his abdomen. He moved his hand down carefully, but he could only feel the bandages underneath his gown. His skin started to itch all over. It shouldn’t have been that much of a surprise that he’d needed surgery. Adam had worried about the internal damage done before he’d gotten the sheet of metal out of him…

“Adam.” Kurt looked at Finn and felt his heart surging. “Adam, is he okay? He was getting a fever before we-”

“Whoa, whoa.” Finn grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “Univeri-glee club Adam?”

Kurt let out a breathy laugh. “Yeah.”

“Wow. Oh, right. His friends came over to get your script for the Pippa the Musical thing.”

“They did?” Kurt shook his head. “Okay, later on that.  _Adam_. Is he okay?”

“I dunno. Um… and I don’t know who to ask. When did you last see him?”

Kurt moved his fingers over his bandages. The idea that his insides had been on display was creeping him out. He forcefully took in a deep breath. “Um, on the plane. Before… the medic put the oxygen mask over my face and he was there…”

“Oh. So he’s probably fine.” Finn shrugged. “They haven’t wanted anyone else in here but family.”

Kurt nodded. Deep breaths. Deep breaths.

“But if you can stay awake for more than a few minutes, they’ll probably let some people in here. Everybody’s goin’ nuts. They’re all at the apartment waiting to hear more.” Finn smiled lopsidedly. “I mean, we told ‘em you made it through surgery, but they  _really_  want to see you.”

“That’s sweet.” Kurt’s hand grazed over his forehead. “I didn’t think I’d ever see them again. I didn’t- I didn’t think I’d see you again.”

Finn’s lips spread wider. “Not getting outta this brother thing so easy.”

Kurt swallowed and sucked in his lower lip. Finn opened his arms wide and motioned forward with his fingers. Kurt leaned over a little and let Finn envelop him in a big hug.

“God, we nearly died without you, Kurt,” Finn said, holding him even tighter. “Everyone was so  _wrecked_.”

“Oh, c’mon.”

“I’m not kidding.” Finn let go a little. “There were all these people at your memorial.”

“My memorial? I had a memorial…?”

“And they were all so like… All talking about how much you influenced their lives.” He laughed and looked down, blinking rapidly. “I’m glad you have the chance to do more of that.”

“…Really?”

“And that little baby girl you saved… Oh, and this one kid got up there and told everyone that he didn’t kill himself because he looked up to you so much in high school, and he wanted to be as fierce as you were.”

“Oh…” Kurt laid his head back on the pillows. It was swimming now. His eyes closed for a moment. When he opened them again, Finn was leaning close and staring at him with a disturbing intensity. “What?”

“You just…” Finn sighed. “You keep scaring me!”

“Sorry.”

“Guess playing  _Survivor_  without the cameras takes it outta you, huh?”

“You could say that. Bet  _Survivor_ never impaled the contestants before sending them on the island.”

Finn sat back and nodded. “That must’ve been real scary.”

Kurt thought back and frowned. “It was. But, you know, the thing that was in my mind the most, when the water was rising around me and that thing sticking out of my side…” He took a breath. It was like he could feel the water rushing around him. “I didn’t want dad to have to ID my body.”

Finn’s eyes widened as his brows knit together. “…Do you want to talk to someone, Kurt?”

“We’re talking,” Kurt said. “Right now. Did I fall asleep again?”

“No, I just think this must’ve been really _stressful_.”

“It would be stressful for anyone,” Kurt protested.

“Yeah, but-” Finn turned toward the door.

Kurt looked up and raised his brows. Blaine was there in the doorway, with Sam shadowing close behind him. Their eyes were comically big. Kurt wondered for the first time how much of a hot salty mess he looked.

“Dude, you can’t be here right now,” Finn said as he stood up.

Kurt was a little surprised to see Finn intercepting them at the door like that, but he couldn’t say he wasn’t grateful. He was reaching the end of his energy just after talking to Finn.

“Burt left word with the nurses that some of us could come, but, y’know not all at once,” Sam said. He held something tightly under his arm.

Blaine was on his toes, trying to see over Finn. An impossible feat, but Kurt could see his hair bobbing up and down anyway.

It was a little strange to see them. He hadn’t laid eyes on Blaine for more than a brief moment since Mr. Schuester’s first aborted wedding. Sam, he’d seen a little when he came home for spring break, but Kurt had avoided alone time with Blaine. It had just seemed like a bad idea, after the “meant to be” talk.

“Oh.” Carole rubbed her eyes and looked up. “Hey, boys! I didn’t know you’d be first.”

“Yeah, well,” Sam said.

Finn looked back at Kurt, and Blaine slipped around his side and made a beeline for the bed.

“I can’t believe it!” He seemed breathless, his eyes roaming all over Kurt’s disheveled form. “Oh, God, Kurt.” He shook his head. “You  _look_  like… We thought you were  _dead_ , and I thought…”

“Well, I’m still kickin’,” Kurt said with a little head waggle.

“I wanted so much to believe you were out there, somewhere. You  _had_ to be. That’s  _not_ how our story ends.” He smiled knowingly and reached for Kurt’s hand, but Kurt slipped it away to wipe his brow.

Sam came up on his other side. “I made some stuff for you.”

Carole was laughing behind her hand in the corner of the room. Finn just scowled and texted.

“Oh, did you?” Kurt asked politely. 

Sam nodded, grinning, then letting his tongue peak out over his lips.

“Do… I get to see it?”

Sam held up one of the flat, square rectangles that had been under his arm.

Kurt blinked. It was pasta on a board. It took him a moment to recognize the face, and his head jerked forward. 

It was him. Staring back at him with a macaroni smirk and crossed arms.

“Oh.”

“And there’s this one.” Sam switched boards. Kurt again, with a superior look on his face, gazing up angelically at the sky. “And um… I had some trouble with this one.”

Kurt. With his sai swords. 

“Wow, that’s…” Kurt laughed suddenly. He held his hand out for the picture and then held it close to his face to look over the detail. “Did you  _make_ these?” 

Sam bobbed his head. “Yeah. I used to make them of just celebrities. And one of you. But then…”

Kurt met his eyes and smiled. “Thanks. For keeping me around.”

“It wasn’t anything.” Sam shrugged and watched while Kurt traced his fingers over the dried pasta. “It was just what I felt like making. I didn’t have the guts to put it up at the memorial, though.”

  
“Really, how long did you wait before deciding to mourn me?” Kurt joked half-heartedly. 

“The Coast Guard said it wasn’t likely that you could have survived, honey,” Carole said. 

“Nobody wanted to believe it, but…” Blaine reached for Kurt’s hand again. This time he grabbed his fingers a second before Kurt instinctively pulled away. Blaine tightened his grip and then rested his other hand over top. “They said no one could have survived in the water for that long. I didn’t know what to  _do_  without you. I missed you  _so much_.”

Kurt stared at him for a moment, his brain not reaching anything for him to say. 

“But here you are, and we’re together again. It’s fate, isn’t it, Kurt? There’s no way it’s not.” He squeezed Kurt’s hand and smiled, brimming with joy.

Kurt touched his side with his free hand and swallowed hard. Nausea was washing over him and he panted slightly.

“Hey, are you okay?” Finn came up behind Blaine and edged him back a little.

“I think I’m just… just tired,” Kurt muttered. He looked at Finn’s face for a moment, then felt a large hand petting the back of his hair. “I think I need some water… or…”

“This isn’t a good time, guys,” Finn began.

“Isn’t it?” Burt said at the entrance of the room. “Got your text. Wow. Party in here.” 

“I could have used a heads up,” Carole said.

“I didn’t know everyone was comin’ over so soon.” He approached the bed slowly, bent over.

Blaine’s brows knit together and his shoulders went stiff. Kurt slipped his hand away and leaned forward. 

Oh. That kind of hurt.

It definitely made the nausea thing an ever present danger.

He must have made a noise, because Carole was shooing Sam and Blaine out of the room and Finn leaned over him. 

“You okay?” he asked again.

“Uhh, I can feel the stitches if I try to move.”

“So don’t, dummy.”

“Can ya spare a few minutes before you conk out on us again?” Burt asked. 

“Maybe…?” Kurt spotted the messy blond hair coming forward, and as Carole moved back, the strong jaw, the sweet smile, the kind blue eyes. Kurt’s heart fluttered uncontrollably in his chest. “ADAM!”

Outside of the room, Blaine’s face flashed in the window and crumpled just as Carole closed the door. 

Kurt reached for Adam’s hand in panic. What was he doing in that chair? Why was there an IV bag on his chair?

“Oh, God, what happened? Are you  _okay_?” Kurt shuddered as his hand grabbed for Adam. He would have pushed forward to close the distance, but then he almost certainly would puke on him, and that was many levels of not romantic.

“Darling, calm down. I’m just fine,” Adam said. He turned his head and thanked Burt as he stopped the wheelchair by the bed, then looked at Kurt again. “They had to stitch up my leg, didn’t they? Oh, angel. Look at you…”

“Come  _here_ ,” Kurt ordered.

Adam reached for him, and Kurt pulled him close and held him tightly. 

“Oh, my God, Adam.  _Adam_.” 

“Sorry I wasn’t here sooner, love. I did try to get to you. Not that I knew were you were or I was doing such a good job of it,” Adam said with a laugh.

  
Kurt kissed the side of his face fiercely, then pulled back to kiss him on the lips. It didn’t matter so much that other people were there. The separation ached, and he didn’t want to ever be away from Adam’s side, especially when it looked like he might need him. Had he been alone in the hospital while Kurt had been babbling in his sleep?

“I love you  _so much_ ,” Kurt said. He kissed Adam’s lips twice more, cupping the side of his face. “Please stay?”

Adam’s eyes quickly grew wet. They shone like stars as he looked back at Kurt, letting out a strangled noise, and then he pressed his forehead against Kurt’s. “As long as they let me, angel. Okay? Don’t be upset. We made it. We both made it.” He laughed. “And all limbs more or less intact.”

He put his hand over Kurt’s abdomen. “How do you feel?”

“Weird. Kind of… sick,” he admitted.

Adam kissed his forehead. “Then just relax. Nowhere to be. Someone else will catch the fish.”

Kurt clung to his hand, and Adam rubbed his shoulder gently. He let Adam rest his head on his shoulder, and began carding his fingers through Adam’s hair. He looked up at his father, who was watching them with crossed arms but an open expression, and mouthed, “thank you.” Burt smiled and excused himself and Carole. Finn lingered for a moment, but only to get some water and put it by Kurt’s bedside, along with a phone to message them.

He still felt a little dizzy. So he sipped the water and tried to be very still. As he closed his eyes, he heard Adam signing softly:

“You’d be so easy to love…”


	5. The Dead Don't Return if They Can Help It...

“I think he fancies you.

 

“Blaine? He  _is_  my ex.” Kurt fidgeted in his bed and his breaths were a little fitful. He combed his fingers back through his hair, trying to get it to fold back gracefully, but it was willful. “I don’t really remember what he said when he was in here before… Finn said it got weird. Should I talk to him?”

 

Adam wished he could do something about Kurt’s obvious discomfort. Though he did now have painkillers, and that surely eased his recovery, at least a bit. “Perhaps? I wasn’t referring to him, though. Unless he’s the blond one?”

 

“The blond one? You mean, yoooou?” Kurt reached over and twirled a finger around Adam’s curls. 

 

“Nooo. The one making macaroni portraits of your lovely face, darling.” Adam pointed to the three pieces of ‘art’ that were sitting by the garden of bouquets. The nurse had just brought in a few more gifts after Adam had hobbled in. They seemed to be multiplying. His Kurt was well-loved.

 

“That’s Sam,” Kurt said after a moment. “He’s  _straight_.”

 

“Are you  _quite_  sure about that? These are rather…  _fixated_.”

 

“Not like that. Sam’s… He wouldn’t think of it that way.  _Me_  that way.” Kurt patted the side of his bed. “It’s not fair that you can be up and around already.”

 

“Well, they couldn’t find much wrong with me. Nothing that an antibiotics prescription and skin cream couldn’t fix.” Adam turned to see Kurt pushing his lower lip out. “Oh. Is that a pout?”

 

“No.” Kurt sighed.

 

“I’m glad you’re rebounding well enough to feel restless.” Adam settled beside Kurt and kissed his nose. When Kurt’s lips curved into a pearly smile, Adam pressed a kiss to them, too.

 

“I’m also desirous of better clothing,” Kurt whispered against Adam’s lips. He slipped his hand into the back pocket of Adam’s jeans.

 

“You must be pretty hard up to be lusting after  _my_ wardrobe.” Adam nuzzled their noses together.

 

“Even if I don’t love your fashion, you know I love  _you_.”

 

Adam’s heart skipped. He didn’t think hearing it would ever get old. “I  _do_ know that. Thank you.”

 

“For loving you?”

 

“For that. For saying so.” Adam touched Kurt’s limp hair and combed it out of his eyes with his fingers. “For surviving.”

 

“That wasn’t  _entirely_  in my less than well-manicured hands.”

 

“No, but you fought hard anyway. I know you did. I watched you.” Adam kissed his brow, then looked over his shoulder and sat back on the bed.

 

“Don’t let me stop you.” Carole entered, carrying a few bags. She approached the bed and raised her index finger. “Unless you’re thinking of gettin’ frisky, and then you’d better back off,  _busta_.”

 

Adam was about ninety percent convinced she was kidding, but he inched back anyway, out of respect. Their amorous interactions had been limited, anyway, thanks to the stitching in Kurt’s side, but Adam had spent as much time by him as the doctors would allow. And when they’d released Adam, he’d left for a few hours to shower, change, be bombarded by his mother’s near endless affections, and then return. They’d only been back from the dead for a few days, but it seemed that word had spread rapidly, if the messages on his answering machine from friends, acquaintances, work, school, and the press were any indication.

 

Luckily for him, his face wasn’t as well-known as Kurt’s, so he was able to travel back and forth easily enough without harassment from reporters.

 

Kurt tugged on Adam’s fingers, refusing to let him go. Adam smiled and settled onto the bed with Kurt, careful of his leg. His dance abilities were going to be limited for a few weeks. Not that he held delusions that he’d been in NYADA’s dance elite at any point. Lucky that he’d graduated. As for Kurt… He might have to request a semester off of NYADA for medical leave. They very rarely granted such requests, but with the public nature of Kurt’s injury… surely Madam Tibideaux would be willing to sign off.

 

Carole fussed with Kurt’s pillows and stroked the edge of his hairline gently. He turned, and looked up at her with a little smile, his lips pressed inward on themselves, and his pale cheeks flushing pink.

 

“I don’t think we could have met you in a better way, Adam. Kurt’s so secretive sometimes,” she said, still looking at Kurt.

 

“I am not,” Kurt protested.

 

“You  _are_  a bit.” Adam shrugged. “I’m the same with my mum sometimes. She’s dying to meet you, now that she’s here. Though I expect she’s busying herself rearranging my flat and cooking for my roommates.”

 

“She could come here, but it might be strange for her to see all of us here like this,” Carole said. 

 

“It’s less that, and more she would utterly refuse to impose on Kurt and you lot. Remember how my dad came in here before they checked me out, yelling at the top of his lungs?” Adam cringed again with second hand embarrassment.

 

“It do  _not_  remember that,” Kurt said.

 

Carole laughed and patted his shoulder.

 

“Mum says he was kicked out of England for failure to adhere to politeness protocols,” Adam joked. “It’s fine to be rude, but you have to do it in the proper way. And trust that she believes her way is right.”

 

“I remember having a dream about Gordon Ramsey yelling at the nurse for serving overcooked fish,” Kurt murmured.

 

Adam wrinkled his nose and shook his head. “Not  _Gordon_  Ramsey. The very loud man’s name is Dillon, and there is  _absolutely_  no relation as far as I know. I don’t think he was going on about fish, either, but after so long, you start to tune it out.”

 

“You took your  _mom’s_  name?” Kurt looked up at him, eyes twinkling.

 

“We’re very close, even now. We don’t go a week without calling at least twice, or didn’t, until the ‘cruise,’ and I send her ridiculous pictures over through email constantly. I’d send them to her on Facebook, but it bothers her, because she feels obligated to answer all of my aunt’s nattering gaming posts, so she just doesn’t sign on there hardly ever.”

 

“She sounds like a very sweet woman,” Carole said. “When we spring Kurt from this bed, how about we all meet up for dinner?”

 

“I’m sure she’d love that.” Adam looked to Kurt, who was once again staring at his belly. Of all the things that had happened to them, it was the notion that doctors had rooted around in his guts that had disturbed Kurt the most. So far. Adam fetched Kurt’s hand before he could rub it over his bandage. 

 

Best not to think about it.

 

“But we were hoping to get you to eat something now.” Carole opened her bag and pulled out a rounded container. 

 

“Where did Dad go?” Kurt asked.

 

“Burt’s talking to the doctors. Don’t worry. He’ll be back in a minute or two.” She opened the lid, letting free the rich aroma of the soup fill the room. She reached over for the pillows behind Kurt’s back.

 

“Here, let me help you.” Adam slipped an arm around Kurt’s shoulders, lifting him gently to allow Carole to prop him up.

 

“Are you going to spoon feed me, too?” Kurt raised a brow at him.

 

“I might at that.” Adam rested him back against the pillows. “Or I might just sit by your side  _all day_ and avoid having to talk to the press.”

 

“Why do they even care?” Kurt accepted the container and plastic spoon. “Must be a slow news day.”

 

“It was news when the ship went down. Not big news, but news. Now that they’ve found you…” Carole shrugged and set out several more containers.

 

Kurt made a noise as he put the spoon in his mouth. His eyes went wide and his brows shot up.

 

“Too hot?” Adam lowered himself next to Kurt.

 

“Too  _amazing._ Carole, where did you get this  _soup_?”

 

“Your father wanted to try the soup that guy  _Seinfeld_  referenced. So I got some for all of us.”

 

“Did you get yelled at?” Kurt asked. He held his soup out for Adam to try. He slowly took in the flavorful broth, tender mushrooms and barley. 

 

“No.” Carole chuckled and put some of the bread from the bag on a napkin on Kurt’s lap.  “I behaved myself. Would you like some lobster bisque, Adam?”

 

“Sure.” He took the offered soup, and offered spoonfuls to Kurt, although Kurt only took two bites. The bisque was pretty rich, and Kurt could barely finish his own.

 

When Burt and Finn returned, they took their orders, and Burt reminisced about how little Kurt had picked up the “no soup for you” phrase when he was four and would say it every night at dinner. Apparently he had startled his grandmother once yelling it, and no one was repentant about having frightened the woman.

 

“That’s not even the craziest story he has about me,” Kurt drawled. He set his soup on the nightstand and sagged back against the pillows.

 

“Oh, not by a freakin’ long shot.” Burt pointed at Kurt with his spoon. “Lemme tell you guys about the paella.”

 

Adam grinned and sat back with Kurt, just soaking up the close family vibes.

 

***

 

What frightened Kurt the most about being in a relationship right now, one reason he’d hesitated to be with Adam to begin with, was the thought of losing himself into another person. Ceasing to be Kurt. He found that while he was lonely after the break-up, he’d missed the person he’d been when he was single. He hadn’t been sure if he was ready to give up being an  **I**  to become a  **we** , so soon.

 

Even with Adam continually by his side, however, Kurt still felt off balanced. He expected having confirmed his feelings, he would soon experience the constriction of the relationship, being held in tightly, like a corset cutting off air.

 

Adam kept his worried eye on Kurt. He stayed by his bed when he asked, but had no problem giving him a minute with other people. Rachel had come in and fawned over him, and then made him promise not to be mad before admitting that she and Santana had another roommate and he might find a  _few_  (probably a lot from her tone) of his things missing. Santana lingered behind her and shooed her off before prowling around the room like an uneasy cat, calling him a lady, insulting Adam, and finally coming over to give him a hug and warn him never to scare them like that again,  _or else._

 

Kurt laid his head back in relief and sighed, feeling tired once more as Santana left the room. He was over this “recovery” thing.

 

“How’s our little hero?” Mercedes’ warm voice entered the room before she did, and he opened his eyes to see her moving forward, slowly. “I shoulda come before the other divas, huh? You look pretty drained.”

 

“Save the best for last,” Kurt murmured. He shifted himself a little in the bed and smiled at her. 

 

“I’ll tell the nurse up front that you’re done with the visitors when I go,” Mercedes promised.

 

“So. How’s tricks.”

 

Mercedes chuckled. “I’m not trickin’, boy. I’m a  _treat._ ” She shook her head. “I bet you’re tired of answering this by now, but how do you feel?”

 

“Compared to coming out of surgery, better. It’s just…” Kurt shrugged. “I try not to think about the surgery itself… my insides being on display. It makes me feel weird and unsteady.”

 

“Oh, wow. Yeah, that’s probably pretty creepy to think about!” Mercedes touched his hand gently and when he moved it forward, she rubbed and squeezed. “I’m  _so_  glad to see you. I prayed  _every_  day. Even after the Coast Guard gave up. And I know it wasn’t a miracle or anything, but if anyone deserved one, or a second chance, it would be you.”

 

“Thank you.” Kurt squeezed her hand back. It had been a long time. He’d missed her.

 

“Okay, I’ll stop talking prayer stuff now.”

 

Kurt smirked. “I  _wasn’t_  going to say anything!”

 

“I just dunno how to tell you that stuff without saying… Anyway, we sang Celine Dion at your memorial.”

 

Kurt tried not to laugh too hard. He rolled his head over and listened as she filled him in on the details. Then he prodded for information about her back-up singer work in LA. After about ten minutes, he saw Adam hobbling toward the door. He spotted Mercedes, then took a step back.

 

“No, Adam, come in.” Kurt waved him closer.

 

Adam smiled and continued into the room. “Hullo there,” he said to Mercedes, then to Kurt. “I got you some proper tea.”

 

Adam set it on the nightstand before he sat so he could steady himself on the way down.

 

“So you’re Kurt’s island buddy, huh?” Mercedes looked him over.

 

“Is that what we’re calling it these days?” Kurt teased. 

 

She shrugged to Kurt then looked back at Adam. “I’m Mercedes.”

 

“And you’ve intuited that I’m Adam.”

 

“Thank you for taking care of him,” she said.

 

“People keep saying things to that effect. I’m not so sure I had a choice. Not even on the grounds of being a good  _person_.” Adam wobbled his head from side to side. “I’m okay. I guess. But I really just  _had to_. And he took care of me, too.”

 

“He’s very humble,” Mercedes said to Kurt. “That’s  _new_.”

 

Kurt chuckled as Adam looked startled. He hadn’t gotten the full friend effect yet, but he’d known to back off when Rachel and Santana were around. They weren’t the protective ones. Mercedes was a little different.                

 

“Don’t tease him. He’s had a hard couple of… I don’t even remember how long we were on that island…”

  
Mercedes petted a hand over his hair and smiled while Kurt furrowed his brow.

 

“Okay, handsome, why don’t you tell me a little something about yourself?” Mercedes said. “Unlike the diva sistas out there, I haven’t had a chance to meet you.”

 

—-

 

_When people die, the world proves its fluidity. It swells and grows, and fills in the gaps where you once were. There is no room for you anymore. That is why the dead don’t return. If they can help it._

 

Adam had read the lines out of a notepad Kurt had been scribbling in at the hospital. He’d said that he intended to make notes on their seafare adventure musical, but inspiration didn’t seem to be coming. Kurt still tired quickly, and seeing his friends made him frustrated.

 

Instead, Kurt had started writing a story about a boy who had come back from the dead.

 

Given Kurt’s stress after the surgery, and the story that was proving to be more than a bit morbid, Adam had arranged for them to take Kurt back to Adam’s place with Joey and Kiera when he was released. He didn’t like the idea of Kurt running into Paul, who had already served as one of Rachel’s replacement gays once before, when she was treating Kurt as a social pariah, and he’d felt the lash of Kurt’s tongue. Adam didn’t think Kurt would much like learning that Paul had replaced him as roommate, too. Of the two that had followed Rachel around, Adam liked Paul the  _least_. And that was saying something because he made an effort not to go around disliking people.

 

So instead of returning to that obscenely large loft with bite, snark, and judgment waiting for him, Adam was scaling the stairs at his own place, with the Hummel-Hudson clan also making the trip, and his mother waiting upstairs to meet them. There was no hoping to get his mother and father together in one room, and if avoiding stress was the goal, that would completely ruin any chance of that.

 

They were only on the second floor when Kurt started to wilt. But before Adam could do anything, Kurt’s huge stepbrother scooped Kurt into his arms, as though he weighed nothing.

 

“How chivalrous of you,” Kurt drawled, looking up at Finn.

 

“Hey. It’s been a while since anyone let me feel like a knight in shining armor,” Finn joked.

 

Adam furrowed his brow as he watched them. Then he gripped the rail as he made his own way up. It was still a bit much to do these stairs more than once a day himself, he had to admit.

 

“How’s the leg holdin’ up?” Burt asked. 

 

Adam shrugged. “Glad I’ve got the cane.”

 

Burt lagged back and spotted Adam as he climbed the stairs.

 

“I’m be fine, Burt. Really.”

 

“Just bein’ careful.”

 

Adam smiled and look up at the staircase above them.

 

“This city needs more elevators,” Finn grumbled.

 

“It does. I’m worried about Artie when he comes for film school,” Kurt said. He let his head flop back and looked at Adam with narrowed eyes. “Let dad know if you need to rest, okay?”

 

“You know my mum is upstairs, don’t you? I don’t need  _much_  more fussing over.”

 

Kurt rolled his eyes. “Too bad. Because  _I’m_  not gonna stop.”

 

It did take longer than Adam had anticipated to get up the stairs again. His legs were shaking a little from the strain when he opened the door, and Burt’s hand was firmly on his back. He smiled at the man, grateful once again for his help. Burt had been nothing but kind to him, since the moment he’d met Adam in the hallway as a disoriented stranger, not the man in his son’s life.

 

“Adam!” his mother called. Then, Melody Crawford scurried to the door before he could properly open it, and threw her arms around him, clinging tightly.

He had to remind himself that she was still adjusting to the shock of him being alive. It must’ve been terribly lonely for her to be in England on her own. Though they hadn’t done his funeral yet. They’d been working out the details, just decided to do it, when they’d reappeared.

 

“Hey, mum. Back again. Is the futon cleared?” He lifted his head to see into the room, then pointed over his mother’s head. “Finn, you can set him on the futon, over there.” 

 

Finn came through and lifted his head in greeting.

 

“Mum, this is Burt and Carole, Kurt’s parents,” Adam said, taking a step back.

 

She shook their hands eagerly. “Oh! Lovely to meet you! I’ve made tea and sandwiches and some other snacks. I wasn’t quite sure what you’d like.”

 

“I’m sure the boys will find something,” Carole assured her. She scanned her eyes over the small apartment. “This is a nice place. And you have three, here?”

 

“Yes. Two friends from NYADA and myself.” Adam made his way over to the futon, where Finn was standing over Kurt.

 

There was no accounting for the warmth in Adam’s face, but did Finn really need to have his hand on the back of Kurt’s shoulder like that?

 

“And, um, this is Finn, and Kurt, here,” Adam said after a moment, because his mother had finished shaking hands and was looking at him with a tilted head and an arched eyebrow.

 

“Oh, which… I suppose  _you’re_  Kurt, aren’t you?” She stepped over closer to them, dark blond curls spilling into her face and a side-ways smile curling onto her lips. She clasped her hands in front of her as she leaned over to look at him. “ _Bless_. I can see why he’d jump in after  _you_!”

 

“Mum!” Adam frowned at her.

 

“At least your taste is improving! I was afraid you’d end up with a shady bastard like your father.” She patted Adam’s shoulder and looked over Kurt. “But you, look at you. You’re _lovely_.”

 

Adam rubbed the back of his head and hoped his ears weren’t crimson. 

 

Kurt grinned. “Thank you. After a week in the hospital, I mostly feel like wilted leaf of lettuce.”

 

“Oh,” Melody said sympathetically, touching his leg. “You are a bit pale, love. Let me fetch lunch, and we can all tuck in, hm?”

 

“I’ll help,” Adam offered. 

 

She swatted his arm as she walked by. “You will not. You’re about to topple over. It’s all made already, anyway.”

 

“I can help carry,” Burt offered. Carole followed them into the kitchen as well.

 

“Thank you, dears. Help yourselves to some coffee.”

 

Adam looked to Kurt, who was smiling at him. Well, that was a positive sign.

 

“We’ve got chicken salad sandwiches, and also some cheese and pickle,” Melody said from the kitchen as Burt came in to set down a tray of sandwiches cut into diagonal halves. “Kurt, dear, do you drink tea?”

 

“I  _do_  drink tea!” Kurt said cheerfully.

 

“Good boy.” 

  
A moment later, she and Carole returned with a variety of drinks. Adam selected a cheese and pickle half and handed it to Kurt.

 

“That’s Adam’s favorite,” Melody said as she sat down and Kurt inspected the sandwich.

 

“So is that… relish?” Kurt asked.

 

“Sort of.” Adam took his own triangle and leaned back with him. “It’s like a chutney spread, with minced veg and spices. It’s amazing.”

 

Kurt took an experimental bite. As he chewed, he narrowed his eyes at Adam, and just as Adam was about to ask if Kurt didn’t like it, he realized that he’d been staring awkwardly at him.

 

“I take it I should learn to make this.” Kurt licked his lips.

 

“It’s not all that complex,” Melody said. “You can make it with a slice of ham and tomato, as well, but Adam only eats it with fresh lettuce.”

 

“Because he doesn’t like ham or tomatoes,” Kurt concluded. “Or at least, raw tomatoes.”

 

“How do you not like  _ham_?” Finn asked.

 

Carole laughed.

 

“It’s  _ham_ , dude,” Finn insisted, taking another triangle of chicken salad.

 

“I just  _don’t_.” Adam looked down. “I never have. I feel  _so_  ashamed.”

 

“He turned his nose up at my croque-madames, and I  _knew_  there was  _something_  amiss,” Kurt said, grinning at him.

 

“He was always a picky boy. I was always glad just to get him to eat,” Melody said. “When he was small, of course. As a teenager he ate me out of bleeding house and home.”

 

Adam covered his face.

 

“Kurt was the same way. But his mom was always good at getting him to eat  _something_ ,” Burt said.

 

Kurt shrugged and poked Adam with his toe until Adam scooted closer to him. They let their parents talk as they linked hands and nibbled on cheese and pickle sandwiches.

 

“Are you feeling alright?” Adam whispered. Kurt had managed to finish a triangle, and Adam handed him his tea to nurse.

 

“Fine,” Kurt mouthed

 

Adam touched Kurt’s nose with the tip of his finger, causing Kurt to scrunch up his nose, and then Adam rested his head on Kurt’s shoulder. He found himself strangely, excessively tired today.

 

Their parents talked to one another more than Adam, Finn, and Kurt did, although Finn was very present and very near. As they began to wind down, Burt’s phone started to go off, and he looked at it a few times irritably before picking it up and checking the messages. 

 

“Hey, Kurt, are you up for another visit?”

 

“That sounds ominous.” Kurt arched a brow, then half sang, “From  _whom_?”

 

“Blaine. He and Sam have to head back on a plane tomorrow. Apparently Blaine’s parents want ‘im back for freshman orientation.”

 

“Oh.” Kurt pulled his mouth to the side and frowned slightly. “Can he do it tomorrow? Before he leaves? Or does he need to meet tonight?”

 

“I think he wanted to go out tonight, but lemme check…”

 

Kurt let his tongue peek out of his mouth like a tuckered kitten and curled an arm around his waist, and then he turned towards Adam. “You look ready to die.”

 

“That’s very flattering.” Adam laughed softly.

 

Kurt combed his fingers through Adam’s hair. “It’s your painkillers. For the leg.”

 

“Ohhh, you’re probably right.”

 

“You should eat more. It’ll make you feel less dizzy. That’s what the nurses told me, about the pills.”

 

Adam didn’t have the bottle on him, but he made a mental note to compare meds with Kurt. 

 

“He’s pressin’ for tonight, but I told him you weren’t up to going out.” Burt looked up and raked his eyes over the both of them. “And I’m not sure you should.”

 

“Just tell him to swing by for breakfast or something,” Kurt said. He pressed his hand to his side and grabbed another sandwich, which he proceeded to poke at Adam’s face until he laughed and took it from him.

 

“This is one of your friends?” Melody asked. 

 

“It’s my ex. I think he must have shamed himself while I was still loopy on anesthesia, because he’s stayed away since then. And getting Blaine to  _stop_ when he wants something takes an act of Spaghetti Monster, if you know what I mean.”

 

Melody screwed her brows together and looked uncertain about whether or not she should laugh. “That sounds  _awful_ , actually!”

 

“Well, it usually results in him filling up my inbox or sending me flowers and notes and random DVD box sets and other crap to my office until the mailroom just starts marking it all return to sender. But he’s not  _that_  big of a guy, and he doesn’t really work out, so in the real world, outside of cyberspace and deliverymen, it doesn’t matter  _that_  much if he doesn’t want to stop, because I can restrain him if I absolutely have to.”

 

Burt looked up from the phone and stared at Kurt for a long moment. The phone rang, and he rose slowly and kept his eye on Kurt as he stepped away from the others.

 

“Hey. Look, Blaine, I know y’got your heart set on doin’ something in the city, but Kurt  _barely_  made it up the stairs today. His health comes  _first_.”

 

Adam set his sandwich down and gently circled his arms around Kurt. “Have you had to restrain Blaine?”

 

“Only once or twice.” Kurt rolled his eyes. “He drinks too much sometimes.”

 

Adam buried his face into Kurt’s shoulder and put all his own restraint into not squeezing Kurt very, very hard. He could hear a tense grunt coming up through Finn’s throat.

 

“Yeah, yeah. All right. We’ll see ya when we get back to the hotel.” Burt turned and came back over to sit with the others. “He’ll be here tomorrow morning. Who’s gonna be around the apartment?”

 

“Kiera, Joey…” Adam lifted his head, feeling a bit ashamed at openly clinging to Kurt in front of their parents, but neither seemed to mind. But neither seemed to mind, even given everyone’s short acquaintance with one another. “Kiera’s tiny, but I’d bet on her in the Hunger Games.”

 

Kurt chuckled. “That so true.”

 

“Mum?” Adam looked up at her.

 

“I can if you like, sweetheart.” She moved over to clear away some dishes. “I certainly wouldn’t want you two trying to deal with this on your own.”

 

Kurt frowned. “It’s just Blaine. We don’t need a chaperone.”

 

“And I reckon you’d prefer not to have one tonight,” Melody said brazenly.

 

Adam dipped his head. She was trying to kill him in retribution for abandoning her.

 

“It’s not going to matter either way,” Kurt muttered with a heavy sigh. “I still have  _stitches_ to watch out for.”

 

Carole laughed softly at his exasperated tone.

 

“How about I stick around?” Finn suggested. “I’ll sleep on the futon.”

 

“Joey sleeps on the futon,” Adam said. “We could pull out some blankets…”

 

“Nah, you guys don’t need that.” Burt motioned towards Adam with one hand as he refilled his coffee. “We can trust Adam to keep a look out.”

 

Burt’s confidence in him filled a space in Adam heart that he hadn’t known had been wounded.

 

“He looked out for ‘im on the island, anyway, right?”

 

Adam bobbed his head dumbly.

 

“Blaine’s not a  _cannibal_ , or anything. I don’t need a bodyguard.” Kurt looked up at his father with furrowed brows.

 

“Oh, he’s just being careful, is all,” Melody said. “If this place weren’t so small, we’d all be spending the night doting over the both of you. We  _lost_ you, after all.”

 

She stepped over, took Kurt’s mug, and touched his face ever so gently. Funny, because she’d not taken to Adam’s last boyfriend at all, but she had a real tenderness and seeming fondness for Kurt.

 

By the time the crew of parents and Finn had left, Kurt was sleeping heavily against Adam’s shoulder. Adam waved goodbye to them all, and gave a kiss to his mother, who turned right to Kurt and kissed his forehead.

 

Adam had no interest in doing anything that afternoon anyway, and Joey wouldn’t be back for another several hours, so he curled around Kurt, pretended they were back on the island together.  _Alone_. And he slept.

 

—-

 

When Kurt awoke, the light was dimmed outside, and the shadows in the apartment were long. It was cool in the apartment, the AC blowing relentlessly. Adam was curled around him, their bodies paired to maximize warmth.

 

But they weren’t in the wild anymore, and they didn’t need one another to survive. At least not literally. 

 

Kurt lay with Adam for a few more minutes, absorbing the silence as though it was life giving. Then he petted the back of Adam’s hair, and began to slip away, moving one of Adam’s substantial limbs at a time. His own body was stiff. He’d been on that futon since Finn had deposited him there hours before.

 

Running a hand through his stiff hair, Kurt stood by the window and looked down at the street below. He didn’t know why his family had thought he’d be better off here, but it was definitely quieter, and he could do with the quiet. Since the Coast Guard had found them, since he’d woken from the anesthesia, the world had been an assault of harsh lights and loud noises.. Like he didn’t fit into this plane of existence anymore, even though he’d only been gone from it for a month and some change.

 

He drew in a deep breath. Adam was still familiar. And his family members, even if they insisted on treating him like a fragile little boy.

 

But he was  _not_  fragile. He had been battered, and ripped open, and clung bitterly to life on a sparse island where they’d been forced to make their means with their own bare hands. He’d used skills he’d learned to make himself more marketable as an actor to kill game. He’d hunted. He’d stripped little bodies for their flesh. He’d bound up his own, and Adam’s, with rags, and leaves, and he’d done it all without coddling or crying.

 

Kurt Hummel could survive so much more than anyone knew.

 

He felt Adam’s hand on his shoulder, and he reached up to touch the strong, calloused fingers. He wondered if  _Adam_  knew his own strength.

 

“Are you hungry? Mum left extra sandwiches. And probably pies and assorted strange foods, in the refrigerator.”

 

“No. No, I’m not hungry.” Kurt turned and wrapped his arms around Adam, who seemed a bit surprised. Then his hand moved up and down Kurt’s back.

 

“What’s wrong? Darling?”

 

“Nothing. Everything.” Kurt sighed heavily.

 

Maybe they  _did_  need each other to survive. Or Kurt did.

 

“I want to take a shower.”

 

“ _That_  I can help with.” Adam kissed his forehead and led him into the bathroom. “Carole brought clothes over earlier… I think some of them are old clothes. Some are in bags in my room, though, so you may have to pick through.”

 

“What do we need clothes for?” Kurt joked. “They were more or less optional… aside from keeping the sun off.”

 

“Well, I suppose Joey and Kiera might mind… They’re not so interested in looking at naked men.”

 

“They’ll get over it.” Kurt walked with him slowly, pulling off his shirt as they went.

 

Adam squeezed his shoulders. “Would you rather be at your place?”

 

“I don’t think I  _have_  a place.” He unbuttoned his pants, then put his hand on Adam as he began to wiggle out of them. “This is too hard. And they’re not even as tight as I usually wear them.”

 

“You might have to wait a bit, before getting back to the skin-tight pants. If the pants are even skin-tight anymore, you slim thing.”

 

“I’ve worn pants that left my legs blue.” Kurt chuckled.

 

“It’s no wonder every guy at school was crazy about you.”

 

“They were not. They hated me.” He freed himself from the pants and they took a few more steps into the bathroom. There he dropped the clothes on the floor and started to unbutton Adam’s shirt.

 

“Many hated you. That didn’t stop them from simultaneously  _wanting_  you. I don’t think you’ve ever understood, how much of an effect you’ve had on people. Adoring you, desiring you.”

 

“That’s not true.” Kurt peeled back Adam’s shirt and moved his hands over Adam’s chest, his shoulders. The burned skin had peeled away as well, leaving him a mottled canvas of golden tan and fresh new pink. “You are so handsome,” he murmured.

 

“How ever did you reached that conclusion, after looking at me like this?” Adam touched the back of Kurt’s head.

 

“Because I see you.”

 

Adam’s smile lasted for only a moment. Then he grimaced and admitted, “I find myself acting foolish, now that we’re home. I feel like… It’s only a matter of time before you realize you have the whole world…”

 

“What?” Kurt had been about to unbutton Adam’s pants, and he looked up, into Adam’s eyes, which still seemed groggy, but a little shiny. The expression made Kurt want to take Adam and wrap him up tightly in something soft.

 

“It just confounds me… What will you do when you finally realize how loved you are? And by so many. I think Sam is  _quite_  in love with you, Kurt, if he only recognized what he  _felt_. Finn loves you  _dearly_. And of course, Blaine, who you have so  _much_  history with-”

 

“ _Bad_  history. Not good. Not,  _not_  good history!” Kurt insisted.

 

“Even then. You have the whole world. A whole world of alternatives.”

 

“I also have a history with the world, which you could say is not absolutely fabulous.”

 

Adam chuckled self-consciously and looked down to unbutton his own pants. “It’s no shock that those who can’t love you find you intimidating.”

 

Kurt felt himself blushing. Adam was always so steady and honest in his affections. And unfailingly lovestruck. Kurt didn’t know how he’d ever seen the fury of it for anything else.

 

Kurt slipped off his briefs and walked over to the shower. He had to keep the bandage on, for now, so he just steadied himself on the sink and leaned over to turn on the water. 

_  
Those who can’t love you find you intimidating._

 

Images jerked in front of Kurt’s eyes. A narrow face with a toothy, sly grin. A plump face with sculpted brows and a threatening flash to the eyes. Kurt flinched as his fingers tested the water. Adam’s large hands were on his back, cautiously steadying him.

 

“Stand with your back to the water,” Adam suggested, holding out a hand for Kurt to take.

 

He took it and stepped in. Adam pulled the lever.

 

The hot water was delicious on Kurt’s skin. First shower in  _months_ , and pressed against Adam’s strong chest, his powerful arms washing over him with a gentleness that seemed at a dissonance with the sight of him. But Adam was all gentleness, for all his muscles, for all his strength. 

 

“Not everyone,” Kurt murmured.

 

“What?”

 

“I just… What were you were saying about everyone loving me. There have been guys who thought the worst of me. Who wanted to hurt me.”

  
“That can still be true, at the same time it’s true that the far easier thing to do is fall head over heels for you.”

 

Kurt closed his eyes. Felt Adam rubbing a rough sponge over his back. That plump face, with so much menace, had turned to smiling and hoping, and the promise written on a Valentine's Day card, _“I think I love you.”_

 

And Kurt had never,  _never_ been able to believe that it was true. How could it be? How could someone who had hurt him, and threatened his life, and terrified him actually  _love_ instead of hate? Kurt had justified it in his own mind, tried to find ways around the thought. He had told himself that it was only that Dave didn’t know that many gay guys. 

 

Which was just a stupid lie, of course. He’d seen him in a gay bar that year. Dave had surely met other gay men, probably older ones who would be happy to spend some time with a beefy young twink. 

 

“You have put my thoughts on an untoward road,” Kurt accused. He reached for the shampoo, and Adam slipped an arm around his back.

 

“Do be careful.”

 

“I’m not going to die in a shower.”

 

“People die all manner of ways. I’m not interested in losing you after all this.”

 

Kurt squeezed out some shampoo and went to work lathering up Adam’s hair. 

 

“Having fun?” Adam bit the side of his lower lip.

 

“Yes.” Kurt molded the lather in Adam’s hair into a mohawk, then started on his own. Adam was beaming in delight now, as Kurt shaped his own hair into a dashing ‘prince’ style, with the bangs in front flipping upward.

 

“Am I your bad boy?”

 

“No. You just look bad.  _I’m_  the wicked one.”

 

“Ah, I see.” 

 

Kurt leaned in and gave him a slow, lingering kiss. Adam responded in kind, and the water caused the shampoo to trickle down the sides of their faces. Kurt laughed and let his head fall back, rinsing the suds out of his hair with a flick of his hand. Then he looked at Adam again, and softly sang,

 

“I get no kick from champagne…”

 

Adam raised his brows.

 

“Mere alcohol doesn’t thrill me at all. So tell me why it should be true? That I get a kick out of you…” He pressed their chests flush together and moved his face close to Adam’s, watching his eyes. He could feel Adam’s heartbeat rushing against his chest. He was having a hard time adjusting, too, it seemed. Kurt brushed their lips together, then murmured, “I don’t care if there are throngs of men who want to be with me.  _You’re_ the one I want. We may be home, and we may have the world back, but my world is  _here_ …”

 

Adam opened his mouth to speak, but lacking words, settled for kissing Kurt. And they continued kissing, touching, feeling one another, over lingering bruises and healthy flesh alike, until the water grew cold over them and both were gasping.


	6. Impossible to get any air...

Adam shook Kurt’s shoulder sleepily, then sat up, leaning on one elbow, as he peered at the sunlight streaming through the crooked blue blinds of his bedroom. He yawned, wanting more sleep, but gave Kurt another gentle prod. Adam knew if  _he_  was meant to see a recent ex that morning, he’d want some time to prepare, and Kurt tended towards ritualesque preparations, so it might take some time.

 

Kurt rolled over onto his back and smiled up at Adam. He reached over, took Adam’s hand, and muttered, “I dreamed about the sea.”

 

“Good things? Not drowning things?”

 

Kurt shook his head. “Just you and me… and the waves.” He rolled and stretched his shoulders, yawning like a kitten. “We lived on the sands and under the sea, and down below it was clear. The ocean water was like swimming through liquid sapphires and we had a home there. It was quiet.”

 

“Sounds lovely.” Adam petted his hand over Kurt’s forehead, then dropped a kiss down onto him. “We ought to be up.”

 

Kurt made a grumbling noise, but started to scoot to the edge of the bed.

 

“Would you like some tea? Mum brought some lovely blends from the homeland.” Someday perhaps she would learn that they had tea in America, too.

 

“Yes. Tea.” Kurt smiled and flipped his legs over the side of the bed. He gave another big yawn.

 

Adam pulled on a pair of jeans and a fairly new tank top. A brief look in the mirror and a hand through his hair, and he supposed he looked all right. He glided on some deodorant, grabbed his cane, and went out into the apartment proper. Joey was already puttering around the kitchen at a frenzied pace. He was likely late for work again.

 

“Can I help with anything?” Adam asked.

 

“Whoa. Hey. I figured you two would sleep in.” Joey looked around his immediate area as though disoriented.

 

“Kurt’s meeting his er, ex this morning.”

 

Joey’s brows rose. “Facebook Fucker ex?”

  
Adam’s eyes bulged and his jaw dropped. “Hush! He’s only in the other room.”

 

“He’s here? Already? Creepy. I thought I was alone. Ish.”

 

“What? I mean  _Kurt_.”

 

“Oh.” Joey started slipping little plastic baggies into his Angry Birds lunch tote. “Well, it’s not like he doesn’t know what happened. Why’s he meeting FaFu, anyway?”

 

“Probably… unfinished business? It was a hard break-up for him. Very messy.”

 

“Yeah, I just figured, y’know.  _You’re_  with him now.” Joey patted his pockets and looked alarmed.

 

Adam plucked Joey’s keys from the counter behind him and placed them in this hands. “I am. This is why I am going to make him tea, and be  _happy_  that Kurt chose to meet with him on  _our_  turf.”

 

“Instead of being annoyed Kurt decided to let him invade your apartment?”

 

Adam frowned slightly, and Joey raised his hands. 

 

“Go on, make your “Ex-boyfriend” Tea. Maybe you can light some candles for them, too, and put on some swanky music.”

 

Adam grabbed the kettle. “Kurt had surgery a week ago. He’s not going to be using candles and swanky music  _quiet_  yet.”

 

“If you say so.”

 

“Where is Kiera?”

 

“Probably spent the night with My.”

 

Adam raised his brows.

 

“Dude. We must gossip.” Joey touched his arm playfully, then bounded back Kiera’s bedroom where he shared the walk-in closet.

 

Kurt came out of the bedroom and disappeared into the bathroom before Adam could catch a glimpse of him. So Adam put the kettle on, set up the tea, put in some toast, and mixed up a bit of sugar and cinnamon to sprinkle over the butter. 

 

As he was getting the tray nearly put together, Kurt emerged from the bathroom, and the kettle blew. Adam blinked at him for a moment. It looked like Kurt had washed his face and brushed his hair, but beyond that, there was _no primping done_. Zero hairgel. He hadn’t even bothered to get dressed. He still had on the shirt he’d stolen from Adam the night before and had only put on a pair of pajama bottoms and socks.

 

Kurt made his way over to the sofa and curled up on the end of it, yawning once more.

 

“How do you feel, darling?” Adam asked. He pulled off the kettle and poured it over the teabags.

 

“I feel okay.” Kurt tilted his head slightly to see into the kitchen. “You? How’s your leg?”

 

“It’s fine.” Adam picked up the tray. 

 

Joey can bolting out of Kiera’s room, then spotted Kurt on the sofa. “Whoa. Hey!”

 

“Hey.” Kurt gave a little wave and a little smile.

 

“So, uh…”

 

Adam watched Joey curiously as he walked over with the tea and toast.

 

Joey looked at Adam, his expression somehow suddenly and inexplicably cheerful. “Catch up with you later? Oh! And the play!”

 

“I can’t wait to see how it’s going,” Kurt said.

 

Joey disappeared out the door, and Adam sat next to Kurt.

 

“I thought you might…” Adam trailed off as Kurt reached for a piece of toast.

 

“What? Thanks for the breakfast, by the way.”

 

“I just thought we might try to be tender with you, for the next couple of days. It’s an adjustment, coming back into the world.”

 

“Yes.” Kurt bit into the toast, leaving a crescent mark, and set it down to take his tea. He held the mug close to his body, cradling it, and he sank back into the cushions. “Birth is hard.”

 

“Really. Are you feeling well?”

 

“I need to take another painkiller, but I don’t like how they make me feel,” Kurt admitted.

 

“I understand that. Hence, food.” Adam munched on his half of the toast and watched Kurt. “Try to eat, love. Then you can take something. I can cut the pill in half, if you want to try that.”

 

“Maybe.” He took a sip of his tea and sighed. 

 

“I get the right amount of sugar?”

 

“Always.” Kurt leaned over and kissed the corner of Adam’s mouth, sucking away a bit of cinnamon sugar.

 

A rap on the door kept Adam from pursuing their affections further. He rose and went to the door, checking in the peephole first.

 

Slicked back hair, a garish bouquet of flowers, a crisp dress shirt and suspenders. Adam creased his brow slightly, since Blaine wasn’t meant to appear for another half-hour. He reckoned Joey had let him up. With a sigh, he looked back at Kurt. 

 

“Blaine’s here. Do you need a moment?”

 

“No.” Kurt took another sip of his tea. “Do you?”

 

“I… No, not really.” 

 

The rap came again, persistently, and Adam opened the door.

 

“Morning,” he said.

 

Blaine looked up at him, and his triangular brows formed a tent. “Is Kurt…?”

 

“Lounging about,” Adam replied lightly as he stepped back to let Blaine in.

 

“You try taking a sheet of metal to the gut,” Kurt muttered.

 

“I think I’ll leave that to you, lovely. You’re much better at the heroics than I.” Adam strolled back into the kitchen with no purpose whatsoever. “Would you like some tea, Blaine?”

 

“Uh, n-no.” He walked over to where Kurt was sitting and stared at him almost in disbelief.

 

“Blaine’s a big coffee fan,” Kurt said.

 

“Ah. I see.” Adam turned around so he could see them. “The coffee maker’s broken, unfortunately.”

 

“That’s uh, okay,” Blaine muttered.

 

Really, Kurt couldn’t have sent him a clearer message if he’d tried. Blaine was spiffed up, looking like he was ready to escort Kurt to the opera or Balthazar’s. Adam had also tried a bit to look put together (as much as he ever did). Kurt still looked like he’d just rolled out of bed and might roll right back in once Blaine had left. It was so far from Kurt’s daily standard, out of the hospital, that it must’ve been jarring for Blaine to see.

 

Kurt ruffled a hand through his hair, then pushed it back and wrapped his fingers around the mug of tea. His toes wiggled in the socks, and his body was tucked up tight, his abdomen blocked by his legs. Out out of reach. 

 

“Ready to head back to Lima?” Kurt asked.

 

Adam nearly dropped his kettle.

 

“Oh, um. I guess. It’s been a weird trip.” Blaine stood there awkwardly, holding his flowers, which Kurt refused to look at.

 

“ _Tell_  me about it,” Kurt replied.

 

Then Blaine just laughed. “Yeah, I um, I kind of  _embarrassed_  myself before…”

 

“Oh, that. Finn said something about that. I was on anesthesia,” Kurt shook his head with a smile. “I don’t remember what you did or said.”

 

“Oh…” Blaine bobbed his head for a moment, then went over to the sofa and set the flowers down on the coffee table beside the breakfast tray. “ _Good_.”

 

It was funny how Blaine’s eyebrows liked to jump up and down with his monosyllabic contributions.

 

“But I do remember the macaroni portraits, because they’re still  _here_ ,” Kurt added.

 

Blaine laughed again. “Yeah, Sam’s been making those for months. I mean, not just of you. Mostly of all his favorite stars.”

 

“That’s kind of sweet…” Kurt scrunched up his nose. “I guess.”

 

“After the memorial, he started working with different materials. I don’t think he’s given up on pasta, but he’s started incorporating bits of other stuff he finds.” Blaine pursed his lips slightly and raked his eyes over Kurt. “How… How do you feel?”

 

“I don’t feel too bad, considering… everything.” Kurt shrugged. “You know me. I’ll adjust.”

 

“If anyone’s a survivor…”

 

“Don’t get me started. I’ll whip out Beyonce on your ass.”

 

Adam filled up a vase with water and brought it over to set the flowers in. Kurt looked at them for a moment, then down at his tea.

 

“I um… I guess I should have brought them to the hospital that day I was there, but we didn’t know… when we’d be able to get in to see you,” Blaine said. “And after, I wasn’t sure when would be good…”

 

Kurt just nodded. “So I heard you’re doing freshman orientation soon, back in Lima?”

 

“Oh, um, not in Lima. Not the community college. I’m going to OSU.” He shrugged. “It felt like I should-” He shook his head. “-get on with my life, and they have a lot of good programs… and the quarter system moves fast, so it’s harder for me to get distracted… I don’t really know what I want to do yet…”

 

“You’re allowed. Not everyone has to be a super-career driven bitch like me.”

 

“Yeah, but there’s a comfort, right, in knowing what you want?”

 

“Maybe. Assuming people will let you  _have it_  when you work for it.”

 

The room went quiet again. Blaine didn’t seem to know how to respond. Adam returned to the kitchen to put the kettle back on.  Then he chopped some apples and cheese to put on a plate, to perhaps temp Kurt a little. The conversation in the other room kept going at the same rhythm. Starting up a topic, a few jokes, then crashing into silence. 

 

Not a bad day for  _Adam_ , anyway, starting off a tad jealous and then feeling sorry for the tiny bloke. Kurt wasn’t even intentionally being cruel. It was just awkward.

 

Adam went into the bedroom, returned the the kitchen to pick up the plate he’d made, and then swooped in, setting down the plate of apples and cheese, and one of Kurt’s painkillers.

 

“Food,” Adam announced, breaking into a big smile, “is  _good_  for you, as it turns out.”

 

Kurt arched a brow at him.

 

“Do eat something, and take your pill. You look miserable, darling.”

 

Blaine’s furry brows went up, and he looked closer at Kurt, as though he thought he’d missed something. Kurt rolled his eyes. Adam pulled the spare chair, picked up an apple with a slice of cheese, and pointed it towards Kurt’s mouth. Kurt narrowed his eyes slightly, but took a bite.

 

“Blaine, you said you’re at OSU, yes? Do they have a musical theatre program there?” Adam asked.

 

“I’m… I’m not really that interested in musical theatre. I was looking at their music program, but like I said, I haven’t decided. The only place I applied for musical theatre was NYADA, and I didn’t even get an audition.”

 

“‘Tis the way of the world. They’re extremely selective, you know.” Adam reached for his own tea, now that he’d gotten Kurt started eating. 

 

“No kidding,” Kurt muttered.

 

Adam patted his knee. “I got in because the head of Dramatic Arts approved of my audition, and for what I’m majoring in,  _he_  got final say,  _not_ Madam Tibideaux.”

 

“I could  _do_  Broadway,” Blaine said confidently. “But I don’t know if that’s the main thing I want to do. I don’t want to just… run off by myself to LA and take my chances, either.”

 

“You’ve time to decide. And you’re already at uni, so you’re not exactly wasting your time,” Adam said encouragingly. “Whatever you do there could benefit what you choose later.”

 

“And that’s more than Cooper did, so you’ve already flown past him,” Kurt said wryly.

 

Blaine smiled slightly. The conversation eased after that point, and Blaine seemed to relax. Eventually Kurt took his pill, and they had ten good minutes after that before Kurt’s head started to dip.

 

“Ugh.” Kurt shook his head irritably. 

 

“Maybe you should rest,” Adam suggested quietly.

 

“I’m tired of resting,” Kurt said.

 

“You’re so stubborn!” Blaine chuckled and rose to his feet. “Thanks for letting me see you like this. I know it wasn’t a good time.”

 

“There wasn’t going to  _be_  a good time. Not before you had to go, anyway,” Kurt muttered, letting his head fall to the side on his hand. “I don’t heal that fast.”

 

“Well, I just… I guess what I wanted to say that day in the hospital, and even now, is that… I’m really,  _really_  glad you’re alive, Kurt. We thought we’d lost you, and that was just awful, feeling like…” He looked at his shoes and sighed. “Like I’d never really gotten closure with you.”

 

“Also with me being a gross bloated underwater corpse being eaten by fishes, and my family mourning me. Something of a bummer, too,” Kurt drawled.

 

“I…” Blaine blinked. Then he looked to Adam, as though he might have some kind of answer for what Kurt had meant just then, but Adam just shrugged.

 

“I hope things go well for you at OSU, Blaine. I hear they have a killer Pride down there,” Kurt said. He lifted a hand and cupped it in a parade wave.

 

Blaine waved as well. “Yeah, I think I’ll like it there. Sam’s going, too.”

 

“Nice. That’ll help. Moving to a new place on your own can be disorienting. I’m sure I’ll hear good things of your successes as you take over the school.”

 

Blaine nodded. He looked for a moment like he might want to give Kurt a hug, but Kurt was still curled up with the bulk of his body blocked from the world, so he gave Kurt a wave and promised to keep in touch.

 

When he was gone, Adam encouraged Kurt to lay out on the couch, and he finally unfolded himself and stretched out. Adam moved his hand over Kurt’s abdomen and frowned.

 

“Do you hurt?”

  
“A little. Sorry about that.” He sighed heavily.

 

“About Blaine being here? I could’ve said no, before. I chose not to.” Adam patted Kurt’s chest. “I’m sure he regrets it more.”

 

“Was I mean?”

 

“Not specifically. He just seemed to believe the two of you would have more chemistry. Or so I intuited. It could be something else.”

 

Kurt shook his head. “No, you’re probably right. Blaine was still believing we were meant to be when we left on the boat.” 

 

He paused, then looked up at Adam. “I just… when I saw the flowers, I couldn’t help but remember the only time he’d ever given me flowers.” Kurt met Adam’s eye. “It was when he was trying to apologize for cheating on me.” He swallowed. “I know he didn’t mean it that way. I’m sure he didn’t even think about it. Of  _course_  he got flowers. Everyone else did.” He gestured to where all of their collective arrangements had settled. “We have a whole  _garden_  of them.”

 

“You can’t help how you feel, though.” Adam shifted from a crouch to a sitting position next to the sofa and looked up at Kurt, making a mental note to always make personalized apologies. “You could say he got closure this time, though, don’t you think? In the end, that might be kinder than forcing a friendly conversation.”

 

“You’re such a good person.” Kurt shifted a little onto his side and took Adam’s hand.

 

“I’m  _not_. I felt  _very_  jealous, that he was coming over to see you. But you’ve beyond shown me that he’s no longer of any import to you.”

 

“Because I got ‘shirty’ over the flowers?” Kurt asked with a shrug. His voice slightly was self-depreciating, but very cute.

 

“No. Because you didn’t bother to really  _dress_  for him.”

 

Kurt looked down at the shirt and pajama pants. “You don’t think I look chic?”

 

“I think you set your own standards.” Adam kissed his lips lightly and brushed his fingers over Kurt’s forehead. 

 

“Can we not, with the other people, today?” Kurt asked.

 

Adam pressed his lips together and looked into Kurt’s eyes. They were like the imaginary sapphire waters of Kurt’s dreams.

 

“Our parents will probably want to come over later,” he said. “I could tell them you’ve gone back to sleep.”

 

Kurt nodded. “At least until tonight?”

 

“My roommates will probably be back by then… seems like a good enough respite from everything, hm?”

 

Adam fetched his phone and returned to the sofa with Kurt, who curled around him immediately. They rested their heads against one another, and Adam could swear he felt the waves Kurt had talked about. Like when they’d lay this way on the beach and had only one another to keep themselves alive.

 

—-

 

Kurt moved through the halls of NYADA with careful, deliberate steps. It was a large enough campus, and Adam had seemed a little unwilling to let him wander off on his own. As if they had to worry about predators here.

 

Well. Not real ones. Kurt was perfectly capable of fending for himself in  _this_  jungle.

 

“Oh! If it isn’t our little hero!”

 

Kurt recognized the cloying voice behind him and turned his head just so. Rachel’s former minion, the one with velvety dark skin and better fashion sense, was hurrying up behind him. 

 

“I didn’t expect to have to sign autographs on my first visit back,” Kurt drawled.

 

Ronnie (since that was the minion’s name) waved his well-moisturized hand at Kurt and gave a tittering laugh. “I’m enrolled in one of the extension dance classes. You know, keeping the  _machine_ well-oiled.”

 

About half of everything Ronnie said was laced with innuendo. It had been almost funny how Rachel hadn’t picked up on most of it. It was like the guy was trying to see how far he could skirt the edge.

 

“The machine, hm?” Kurt pulled his lips to the side. “I think after all this time, my machine is a little rusty. But once I get the stitches out, we’ll see.”

 

Ronnie’s eyes lit up in wicked delight. “So what are  _you_ doing here?”

 

“Going to have a talk with Madam Tibideaux about my fall schedule. My request for a medical leave this semester was denied.”

 

Ronnie scrunched up his nose and pushed out his lips. “Well, they hardly ever do. I’m sure she just doesn’t want one of the school’s investments slipping away from her.”

 

“Whatever it is, I’m not up for a high impact dance class.” Kurt shrugged. “Maybe not until October.”

 

Ronnie nodded and scanned his eyes over Kurt in a body check. No doubt filing away details for gossip sessions later.

 

Kurt pressed his lips together and gave a nod of his own. He leaned forward and whispered, “Why are you talking to me?”

 

“Am I not allowed?” Ronnie tried to feign offense. Complete with a pearl clutch, though he wasn’t wearing pearls today.

 

“You’re allowed. You just generally don’t talk to my face. You never have.”

 

“I admit-” Ronnie held up one hand. “-I would like to have the T on our local hero-”

 

“I got impaled with ocean junk and fell off a boat,” Kurt interrupted flatly.

 

Ronnie’s grin seemed almost genuine. “But I so enjoyed your final solo in the Round Room. I thought what a pity it would be for the world to lose your talent  _so soon_.”

 

Kurt frowned, trying to judge Ronnie’s sincerity.

 

“Believe me or not. Do you have plans for lunch? I could wait for you to brave the beast?” Ronnie made a clawing motion in the direction of Tibideaux’s office.

 

“Lunch…?” Kurt tilted his head to the side as he watched Ronnie’s brows raise. His own shot up and he gave Ronnie a soft smile. “I’m meeting Adam and the Apples after the beast. I don’t suppose you want to come with?”

 

Ronnie pursed his lips. 

 

“Open invite.” Kurt flicked his eyes over to Tibideaux’s door, which was still shut. 

 

“Same,” Ronnie said in a bit lower tone and a coy smile.

 

Kurt sighed and gave his full attention to Ronnie for a moment. “I’m not very good at reading this sort of thing, so… grain of salt. But Adam and I are together.”

 

Enough surprise registered on Ronnie’s face before his features were taken over with a forced aloofness that Kurt knew he’d been correct in his assessment. Ronnie had wanted to ask him out.

 

“No worries,” he breezed, holding his fingers in the air by by his face.

 

“If you’re not to embarrassed to be seen with the Apples, maybe I’ll see you around campus more this semester.” Kurt narrowed his eyes. “Where’s Thing Two?”  


 

“What?” Ronnie skewed his brows.

 

“Paul? Who is almost always by your side?”

 

“Oh.” Ronnie rolled his eyes, then shook his head dismissively. “Probably attached to Rachel. What it must be like in that apartment right now. It must be  _impossible_  to get any air.”

 

“I wouldn’t know. I’ve been staying with Adam since I got back from the hospital.”

 

Ronnie’s brows did a short jump at the word ‘hospital.’ Then he nodded slowly. “So… You know Paul moved in with her, didn’t you?”

 

Oh.

 

_Oh._

 

“I knew she’d gotten another roommate.” Kurt pursed his lips.  “Oh well. They’ve probably signed a new lease by now. Though I should force them to pay for the interior design of that place!”

 

Ronnie’s lips curved, and he looked pleased at Kurt’s annoyance. God, what had happened between Thing One and Thing Two? Kurt dismissed himself with a wave, wondering what had suddenly made him seem like such an eligible bachelor. Granted, Blaine had hinted to the same idea: lost chances then lead to a stronger sense of day seizing now. He wondered if Ronnie had ever liked him before, or if that had come with the news of his death.

 

He approached Carmen Tibideaux’s door and rapped lightly. He waited for a moment, then two, and just as he was about to knock again, her voice resonated from inside, bidding him to enter.


	7. Preparing for my life to begin...

Adam had rarely felt such a sense of completeness since they’d returned. But the moment he’d walked into the small theatre on the south side of campus, which the Apples had reserved for practice every Monday and Thursday for the past several years (baring a short stint when they were pushed out of their practice space), everything seemed to click into place. 

It was one thing seeing Joey and Kiera every day, or having one or two of them come visit to see that he was all right. Having them all around him at once, however, made him feel nearly overwhelmed with acceptance. It always had. 

That’s what made the Apples special, really. They weren’t the most prepared of the students that came to NYADA. They weren’t the ones with years of previous training and a pedigree in the arts. They were the ones for whom creativity and community were their guiding criteria for life.

And Adam adored them for it. The Apples were really all about  _them,_ even if the group still bore his name.

With all of them buzzing around him, Adam just listened as best he could to each of their stories. Even those who had graduated were there, just so they could all be together once more. Adam soon found himself as the storyteller one more time and sat in the middle of the stage cross-legged as the Apples sat around him, listening to him recount his time with Kurt on the island. 

Complete with songs.

—-

“Afternoon, Mr. Hummel.” Carmen waved him forward. 

Kurt looked around before taking a chair and lowering himself slowly.

“I  _have_  read your formal request,” she said, sorting through some papers on her desk.  
  
“I know it was denied, and I understand that you only allow a medical pass in extreme circumstances. I’m not trying for special treatment, or attempting to get out of anything. It’s just that I won’t be able to participate in dance class until maybe October-”

“I’ve spoke with Cassandra, and that won’t be a problem. She’ll accept you into the class mid-semester.”

Kurt frowned. “I’m not sure that will work. Won’t I be behind?”

“She’s recommended that you retake the beginner’s class,” Carmen said shortly. “So I  _doubt_  you will be too far behind.”

Kurt felt his cheeks burning. Bumped back to the beginner’s class. His lips pressed into a line, and he breathed in and out slowly.

“I see. Then I’ll just continue with the rest of my schedule as it was?”

“No. You will not be in Ulrich’s acting class.”

Kurt felt his thin grasp on this meeting starting to slip.

“He’s requested for you to be in his intermediate course. And you were accepted into Cohen’s scriptwriting workshop.” She pushed a piece of paper across the desk to him. “Review your schedule, please, and sign if you agree with the changes.”

Kurt picked up the paper. There were two copies. Obviously, he was meant to take one home with him. It was odd that she would request for a conference with him, given all of this could have been done over email, or through her assistant. 

  
He scanned the paper, signed his name, and took the copy. 

“Thank you.” Carmen folded her hands on the desk, then leaned forward slightly. “We’re grateful to have you back at NYADA this semester. Several students who were on campus over the break already held a memorial for you.”

“People are so quick with those memorials,” Kurt muttered. He caught himself, then swallowed and tried to look appropriately polite and interested.

Carmen’s lips cracked a very light smile. “So I would imagine this is strange for you as well.”

  
She pushed a folder across the desk. “This is from our school counselor. I have taken the liberty of making an intake appointment for you. We can’t require students to go, of course. Not unless they’ve broken rules or happen to be on probation, but it is a strong suggestion.”

Kurt opened the folder. Directions to the Wellness Center, a pamphlet on depression, an intake form for him to fill out… “Not so easy, coming back from the dead.”

“Has it been difficult?”

“No.” Kurt lifted his eyes and thought about that. “Yes. Well, just… unexpected.”

“Have you spoken to the press?”

“I’ve avoided them. And my family has run interference for me, some. Honestly, if I’m going to be famous, I don’t want it to be for this. I didn’t save that girl to be a media darling for a few days, and Adam didn’t save me for that either.”

Carmen nodded. “I’ve instructed campus security to keep them off of our property. We can enforce that, since this is not a public school. If you see paparazzi, feel free to report them to security. It has been a longstanding policy at NYADA  _not_ to allow the press to disrupt our classes.”

“I really, really appreciate that.” Kurt looked down at the folder once again. “Life among the living can be a little overwhelming.”

“I believe that’s always true.” Carmen sat back. “I’ll see you around campus, Mr. Hummel.”

Kurt took that as a dismissal. Funny to have a woman like this concerned about his mental health. Isabelle had fussed over him, given him kisses, asked about his stitches.  She invited him to a party at her flat this weekend, but then fluttered her hands and assured him that there was no pressure, if he wasn’t feeling up to it.

  
He wasn’t sure yet if he’d make it, but he’d appreciated the warm welcome. He’d been replaced by now, of course. Life went on. She had another assistant. The new guy apparently wasn’t doing as  _many_  jobs for her, but Kurt’s position was taken. Isabelle had told him to keep his phone by him, because she was working to  _create_  a position for him. Kurt didn’t know if that was a good idea, or if it was what he wanted right now, but there would be no telling her no. She was his fairy godmother, and she had clearly missed him.

Isabelle needed him as much as he needed a job. He didn’t technically  _need_  a fairy godmother; he had a habit of making things happen for himself, but he would take whatever magic she wanted to sprinkle into his life.

Kurt paused in the hallway. He still had quite a bit of time before he’d promised to meet Adam in the theatre. He picked up his pace and headed for the street entrance to the subway.

—-

Adam slipped his hands into his pocket as he strolled down the halls of NYADA. He’d slipped away to get a drink and clear his head a bit. The reality was that he was no longer the Apples’ leader. He was grateful for them. They’d made his life tolerable during the time he’d been here. But he had graduated. He would be looking for work, and parts, and moving on to a new phase of his life.

  
And though this phase of his life now included Kurt, a much welcome addition after having waited for Kurt to heal enough to make the choice, the future sprawled endlessly in front of them. A future they might not have had, only a few weeks ago. Kurt would have eventually succumb to fever on the island. It was only due to his immense strength that he did not.

Uncertainty wrote its way onto Adam’s body, bowing his shoulders slightly. He spotted the bulletin board where he’d spoken to Kurt for the first time.

_NYADA show choir! You should_ **_join_ ** _! It’s super fun!_

Adam approached the board and looked at the bright red and yellow on crisp paper that was now curling only slightly at the edges. Their colors. My had designed them. Adam picked up the felt-tipped pen dangling from the board and started to scratch out his name.

“Defacing school property? I always knew you were a trouble maker.”

Adam turned his head and smiled widely at Brody. “He-eey. How’s it going?”

“Do you mean, how’s  _business_ going?” Brody stood with his hands on his hips, lips curved wryly.

“I could ask, but I’m afraid I don’t really  _care._ ” Adam crossed his arms and continued to smile.

Brody gave him a slow, assessing look. “I’m just glad this is my last year. Maybe I can get out of this school with some dignity.”

“If only. That’s living the dream, eh?” Adam took in the tiredness under Brody’s eyes. “It’s been a while. Are all your courses lined up? And your senior project under way?”

“No one wants to be involved with me.” Brody shrugged his head to the side. “I’ve been trying out for every part I can think of. But you know how it is. Once dirt is out, it’s out.”

“Ask the Apples. They’ll help.” Adam deepened the corners of his mouth. “They  _do_ remember that one time you kept Everest and their ilk from taking over our performance space.”

Brody shook his head. “That was three years ago.”

“We don’t have that many people who care that we’re even here. Let alone who would stick up for us.”

“It wasn’t a big deal. It didn’t cost me anything,” Brody protested.

“And yet so few would have done the same.” Adam looked down for a moment and shook his head. “It’s up to you. You don’t have to accept the help. But you know they’ll be there, if you ask.”

“Funny to see you on my side.” Brody stepped closer and looked at the defaced sign.

Adam picked the pen up again and began to write. “I’m not. I  _don’t_  support dishonesty. Relationships thrive on trust, and you really  _ought_  to have been open about your job. With  _her_. No one else really matters but the one you’re with.” He added a bit of flourish to the letters, then looked back at Brody. “But I don’t support the public  _shaming_  of anyone for sex work, either. I know people are giving you a hard time, but what you’re doing isn’t  _really_  that far off from what a  _lot_  of people here do to get what they want, and _they know it_.”

Brody laughed softly. “No wonder you were always so unpopular. I didn’t know you had that much shade in you.”

“I store it up for a rainy day.” He drew in a deep breath and shrugged. “Anyway. If you’re looking for another person to judge you, you ought to keep looking. All you have is my sympathy. And my respect. If you want it.”

Adam spread his hands and started in the direction of the auditorium. 

“Adam?” Brody called after a moment.

Adam looked back. He narrowed his eyes. The sign, now reading “Kurt’s Apples,” had Brody’s name written on the lines below in huge letters.

“We’re in the theatre practicing,” Adam offered.

Brody made a large swaggar of a step and fell into line with Adam. 

—-

It was hard for Kurt to imagine that he hadn’t climbed these stairs in months. The place he’d dug out of New York and made his home, from scratch. He understood now why Adam had encouraged him to stay at the apartment with him. It was so unlike Adam, actually, to not tell Kurt what was going on. But Kurt understood. The emptiness of having been replaced, while not as glaring with his mentor and boss, yawned in front of him like a gaping maw as he approached his former home. He may well be devoured by the nothingness of it all.

Once there, he realized he did not have his keys. He knocked, afraid that Paul would answer. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure who he wanted to see there.

“Coming!” Rachel chirruped from deep inside. When she opened the door with a heave, Kurt wondered, not for the first time, what she would do if someone dangerous were on the other side. “Oh! Kurt!”

Her arms opened wide for him, but Kurt didn’t move.

“Are you- How’s your stitches?” she asked.

Kurt looked down and realized he had his hand pressed over them. “Not used to the stairs, anymore,” he muttered.

She smiled sympathetically. “It’s good to see you. Come in!”

Kurt followed her into the loft. It was huge compared to Adam’s place, but Kurt felt instantly uncomfortable. There were things  _out of place_. They’d changed some of the decorations, added unnecessary window coverings and ornamentation, and Santana had clearly dragged in some other furniture from off the street, and things just clashed. It wasn’t  _right_. Didn’t Paul have any sense of composition whatsoever? What  _good_  was he if he didn’t make sure their living space was in its most functional and attractive arrangement?

“Would you like some tea?” Rachel went over to the kitchen.

“I thought you’d wait a little longer for the interior decorating,” Kurt said flatly. He strolled through the main area of loft, straightening items that had been misplaced.

“Oh, Kurt…” Rachel hurried back over. “It’s not like that. It’s just that we needed someone else to help with the rent-”

“Your dads were paying that much before Santana moved in.”

Rachel stood still and opened her mouth. Kurt looked back at her and stared for a long moment before sitting in the Mercedes chair that he’d scrapped together himself. He moved his hand over the armrest, feeling the leather.

“I’m glad you didn’t get rid of this.”

“You worked so hard on it. I figured… It was important to you.” Rachel folded her hands in front of her.

“It was.” Kurt didn’t offer further information. She wouldn’t understand. She’d never lost a parent. Not really. Her dads called her every week, but not the other way around. The concept of keeping part of your family nearby, just to get through each day, would have been alien to her.

“You can have it,” Rachel said suddenly. “Take it to where you are with Adam. That is… if you don’t want to move back in.”

“What use could you have for two gay best friends?”

“What?”

“I mean, we’re pretty interchangeable. One croaks, fill in with another pale, high-voiced brunet.”

“You’re not… Kurt, what in the  _world_  are you talking about?”

“Paul?” Kurt raised his brows, then pushed himself out of the chair and strolled over to the window.

“Kurt, I  _told_  you, it was about the rent.”

“It wasn’t about the rent the  _last_  time you replaced me.”

“Well, this time I wasn’t going to get you back!” Rachel practically squeaked on her final words.

Kurt looked over his shoulder to see her shaking. He felt numb. Maybe it  _was_ a good idea to see a therapist. Normally, if Rachel was upset, he would go to her naturally, comfort her, even if he was also upset, or if he had other things he needed to be doing. Now, he just watched her for a moment, until she started to sniffle.

Then he walked over to her and lowered his gaze.

“Kurt, I  _love_  you. I  _missed_ you. I didn’t know what to do without you. And I couldn’t just stay here, seeing parts of you all around. Not when we wouldn’t be getting you back, not _ever._ You’d never yell at me over the hot water or demanding tea again, or get us boyfriend pillows, or bounce around the apartment cleaning and singing to Lady Gaga or Madonna.  ** _Not ever._**  I couldn’t… I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t lose you.” She shook her head. “But you were  _gone_.”

“I’m, um. I’m sorry?”

Rachel looked up with a quizzical expression, then laughed softly. “I don’t know what to say either! It’s not like you could help it. You’ve been through  _so much_. How do I even begin to talk about this when I’ve spent the last few months trying over and over to fill in the spaces you left empty?”

“I don’t know. I’m not even sure why I came. I just heard about Paul, and I came.” Kurt scratched the back his head and then touched his side. “I think I left part of myself back on the island.”

Rachel smiled and took his arm. “No, you didn’t. You’re just trying to adjust.” She rested her head on his shoulder. “We’ll kick Paul out if you want.”

“Yes.”

She laughed harder. “I didn’t expect you to say that so quickly!”

“I don’t know. Let me think about it. But don’t get rid of that chair, okay?”

“I won’t.” She petted his bicep then pulled away, keeping hold of his hand. “Do I get to keep you for the afternoon?”

“No, I need to get back to campus. I’m meeting with the Apples.”

“Oh. Still doing that this year?”

“I’m their leader now,” Kurt informed her, arching a brow. “I can’t just abandon them.”

“Well. Honey. Don’t take this the wrong way, but you died. They probably chose another leader.”

Kurt felt the slight warmth that he’d been building empty out of him.

“I’m sorry. Let me make you something? Tea? Santana will be home soon, and we can all hang out, like before.”

Kurt thought about it. He really considered staying there and not facing the question of whether someone else had taken the leadership of the Apples. Granted, it didn’t matter much in the scheme of things. He wouldn’t care about them any less.

This was just not a good day for him.

“Another day,” Kurt said. He kissed her cheek and swept a glance over the apartment.

He was beginning to bitterly want his life back.

—-

An hour after his fruitless trip to Bushwick and back, Kurt moved through the halls of NYADA, his arms hugging around his waist. At this point he really just wanted to go home— if such a thing existed anymore— and forget about his lack of place in the world. Oh, he would find it again. He would carve it out, stroke by stroke, through sweat and blood, but he hated that he was so easily out of people’s minds.

Except, perhaps, for Sam. And his father. And to be perfectly fair, Blaine.

He stopped himself short just before plowing into Cassandra July, who looked a bit harried and annoyed.

“Sorry.”

“Oh, it’s you. I didn’t expect to see you on campus for a while.” She put a hand on her hip and cocked her head back, looking up at him.

“I was denied medical leave. I’ll be on campus. Just not moving very… smartly.”

“Ugh.” Cassandra rolled her eyes. “Well, whatever. Come to class as soon as you can, and I’ll make sure you’re on track to enter the second half of the course.”

Kurt paused and frowned for a moment. He was curious, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. “Could I ask you something?”

“It’s not a personal question is it? I’m not feeling fluffy today,” she drawled. In fact, she looked very tired.

“Oh. No. It’s about… Madam Tibideaux said you wanted me back in the beginner class. Could I ask why? Did I not do well last semester? I thought, if that were the case, you would have told me directly. You’ve never lacked for honesty as a teacher.”

She tilted her head back and slit her eyes at him. “Didn’t you just have  _surgery_? Look, Sparkles, when things happen to your body, trauma, surgery, birth,  _whatever_ , you  _have_ to retrain it. It may react in different ways than you’re used to. And I’ve  _told_  you guys in class  _so_  many times. Being a dancer is as much knowing your skin and muscles and bones and  _guts_  as it is about knowing choreography.”

Kurt looked down and smoothed his hand over his side.

“I’m not worried about you getting caught up. Most of the special snowflakes under Tibideaux think they’re too good to put in the work. I know  _you_  will. But you need to make sure you don’t damage yourself doing it.” She gestured toward him. “Just slow your roll, kiddo. Let yourself  _heal.”_

“That makes sense, actually. Thank you.” Kurt pulled up the right corner of his mouth. “If there’s any way I can help with the class until then…?”

  
Cassandra smirked. “Come the first day. I’ll put you to work.”

Kurt bit his lip and nodded. “Thank you.”

“Rough first day back?”

“To NYADA?” Kurt frowned. “I guess it’s just feels like the first day back to my life.”

“It’s never the same. Not when you step out of it for a little while.” Cassandra crossed her arms loosely and leaned against the wall. “Little things out of place. People moved on. Nothing stops. Nothing slows down. No second chances to jump back on. It just keeps on and keeps on.”

“That’s…” Kurt tried to force a laugh as he shook his head. “…terrifying.”

“Pretty much. But you can handle it. You’re a tough cookie. And a hero, I hear.” Her tone was only slightly mocking.

It was funny. She’d cut him zero slack the semester before. Made him work extra hard for the time off to go visit his father. Now she seemed almost fond of him. They chatted for a few more minutes before she had to go, and he was on his way to the auditorium.

—-

The Apples were practicing as Kurt walked in. He was utterly silent, watching them dart in and out of cut out television sets, and then chase one another around. It was lively. It was hilarious. It was one of his favorite numbers from  _Pip, Pip, Hooray_ : The mocking of the on-looking, Reality TV addicted American public.

It was so unfathomable that they were actually going to make real something he’d put to paper two years ago.

Adam stood in front of them, clapping in time. Some of them were having a little trouble keeping up with the others. That was when Kurt noticed Brody, who was completely out of step. Kurt approached slowly and took a seat, just to watch.

When the number was over, Caleb dropped his tv-prop and collapsed dramatically onto the stage, to a chorus of laughter. Kurt just clapped and smiled. Those who hadn’t noticed him yet turned their attention to him, and Adam turned and then came bounding toward him in an odd hobble.

“Hey,” Kurt said softly as he began to rise.

“Are you all right?”

“Are you?” Kurt looked down at Adam’s leg. He seemed to have decided to ignore his cane. Who knew where it was. Kurt shrugged. He could talk to Adam about the apartment and Rachel and Tibideaux and Cassandra later. “This looks like it’s coming together really well.”

“We’d planned on being into dress rehearsals by next week,” Jazz said. She hopped off the side of the stage and came up to them. “But since you’re here, we’d like your input on the show. Anything you’d change, or… if you wanted to be in it?”

“Oh. No, no. I’m not going to be performing for a while,” Kurt said. He lifted his eyes and scanned the curious faces of the Apples. “Are you leading right now, Jazz?”

She made a half-snorting noise and shrugged as she put her hands on her hips. “I don’t ever know what I’m doing. I guess I’m directing, since I have the experience, but it’s not like I control anything. We just got a new chorus member.” She shot a look back at Brody, who winked broadly at her, and licked her lips. “But whatever. Our fearless leader has returned.”

“Just no more boooats!” Joey yelled.

Kurt laughed. “Agreed!”

Jazz ran back up to the stage, and Adam took Kurt’s hand and went to sit with him for the viewing. In a way, developing this musical was another memorial…but instead of putting Kurt away and out of sight, it was taking everything he was, with strong British contributions from Adam, and putting it on display.

He in fact only had a few notes. He didn’t care what the higher ups at the school thought about the Apples. He was blown away by what they’d done with the script and arrangements left to them. And he was touched that they’d thought to do it at all.

Kurt suspected it came from knowing this piece would be their best means of honoring Kurt and Adam. Now that they were here to see it, though, the Apples continued to work hard. The proceeds were going to a good cause, after all.

Maybe Kurt could convince Jazz to help him keep people in line. His experience was all in creation and arrangement, while she’d directed several short films and senior projects. He would ask her later. For the moment, he could just enjoy seeing his teenage obsession played out in front of him with the irreverent glee it deserved.

—-

Adam’s lips froze around words of greeting as Kurt entered their bedroom.  _Theirs_ because Kurt had told him a few weeks ago that he had no intention of moving back in with Rachel, and they’d started thinking about getting their own place.

But that was quite beside the point. The point was Kurt’s naked form at the doorway. His pale skin, with freckles sprinkled over his shoulders and arms. His long limbs, sinewy muscles. The scar cutting across his middle, but lacking the stitches that had held him together. Kurt approached, slowly at first, almost like a predatory cat.

Soon Adam was lying back, Kurt perched on top of him and devouring the skin of his neck. It was beyond what he had imagined this moment to be. He should have seen it coming. There had been a flicker of sinful amusement in Kurt’s eyes all evening.

Later, they lay next to one another, Adam nearly breathless, Kurt rubbing his foot up and down Adam’s calf and looking at him with devotion and mischief and no small sense of possession. Adam rolled his head to the side and cupped the side of Kurt’s face and told him dryly that he was quite glad that Kurt was feeling better. 

And Kurt laughed and snuggled in. “In more way than the one. More everyday.”

“Well, aerobic activities aside, I’m glad of that, too. You had me a bit worried.”

“Oh. I don’t know. Isn’t it strange for you to be back? I mean, I know we can’t go back to the island. That would be crazy. But…” Kurt rested his head on Adam’s shoulder.

“It’s, er,  _different_ for me.” Adam looked up at the ceiling. Kurt had put a constellation of glow in the dark stars up there. It  _did_  make one feel adrift at sea. 

“How?”

“College is done. I didn’t get accepted into the graduate program, since I was dead. And everything is wide open for me.” Adam pressed a kiss to Kurt’s forehead and smiled at the soft noise Kurt made. “But that would’ve always been true. There was no guarantee that I’d get in.”

“You could reapply.”

“I mostly applied for fear of what came next, to be perfectly honest. I feel like I’ve been preparing for my life to begin long enough, thank you. It’s time to, oh, I dunno… sally forth, as it were.”

“I don’t think you could’ve said that in a more British way.”

“I’ll find a way, I promise you!” Adam wrapped his arm around Kurt’s shoulders and squeezed. 

“How about when we visit England,” Kurt said. 

Adam looked at him to see the little smile. “Oh, are we?”

“Well, a plane has to be safer than a cruise ship.”

“You’d think. We might end up on an entirely  _different_  island.”

“Yeah. Like  _England_.”

Adam laughed heartily and shifted onto his side so they were nose to nose. “I love you so.”

Kurt brushed their noses together. “I love you, too.” His brow furrowed. “I think I need you. I… I know I  _want_  you.”

Adam caught his breath and blinked a few times as his eyes grew just a bit moist. “It all feels a bit less terrifying by your side.”

Kurt nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s it, exactly.”

Kurt’s leg curled around Adam’s, pinning them both together. Their lips touched in brief bursts of affection, and in between, soft chuckles from them both.

Amid his own anxieties, Adam had been perfectly aware that Kurt had been terribly stressed, integrating back into his life, already in progress. It hadn’t been as good a fit. Much of Kurt had changed. One didn’t go through something like that without change. So it was good to see Kurt relaxing. It was as though they fit together, despite being at such different points in their lives.

“So worth yearning for,” Kurt sang softly.

Adam couldn’t help but smile. “So swell to keep ev’ry home fire burning for,” he sang in reply.

“Oh, how we’ll bloom,” Kurt whispered, looking deep into Adam’s eyes. He was such a  _cuddler_ , post aerobics! “How we’ll thrive…”

“In a brownstone for two, or even three, four or five,” Adam sang.

“We might need that many to pay for a brownstone.” Kurt rolled his eyes. 

“I’d settle for a shoebox, so long as it has subway access.”

“And  _closet space_.” Kurt shrugged. “Well, we’ve lived in worse places.”

“Y’know, that we have.” His fingers carded slowly through Kurt’s soft hair. “Have you made any progress on the musical?”

“No. I don’t think I’m going to write it. It feels… Too intimate. Those memories belong to us. I don’t want to talk to journalists about it, and I don’t want people singing cheerful songs about hunting for our food and fighting off infection, either.” Kurt raised his brows, then closed his eyes and lifted his head to press into Adam’s caresses, like a cat. “Are you disappointed?”

“Not at all. I think your work best when you’re inspired. I do like the idea of keeping the island to ourselves.”

“Good.”

Kurt kissed him once again, and pressed their foreheads together, then gazed up at the stars on their ceiling.

Maybe sometime they would go camping together. Maybe none of this would last. The metaphorical stars above watched them, and they watched one another, grew around one another. Separate trees circling and curving into and around each other. They could move away, choose independent paths, and in some ways, their paths were still their own. Instead, they would choose to grow closer and tighter and stronger.

Loving Kurt would turn out to be the best thing in Adam’s life for as long as he lived it. And Kurt, often, would remind him that he felt very much the same. They, in fact, couldn’t get enough of saying it, writing it, and yes, singing it both loudly to the world, and privately. Only to one another.

_The End._


End file.
